Winter Eyes
by ButterPen
Summary: Thranduil Lasgalen is the perfect Slytherin student, seeker, top of his class and head boy. But why is he so cold and distant with everyone? Why does he constantly skip class? and as Sigrid is soon to find out, why does he visit the magical Hospital so frequently? ThranduilxSigrid Lord of the Rings Characters in Hogwarts. Mentions of illness
1. Sorting Ceremony

The landscape flew ethereally outside the window, trees giving way to vast clearings spreading green and warm before the imposing mountains in the horizon. Far in the reddening sky, the Sun was beginning to set, tainting the sparse clouds in all shades of pinks as the blue mantel of the sky mixed with the red sun in a compromised purple.

Outside her compartment, students already pranced wearing their long schools robes, the first-years standing anxiously crammed around the windows, as if expecting to catch even if a glimpse of the magnificent castle. Sigrid let out a silent little laugh as she caught one student –clearly of the first year- standing on her tiptoes with her eyes glued to the crystal. Tilda must be somewhere around the train looking exactly like that young girl, eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. She did not know who had told the poor new students that the castle would be visible from the Hogwarts Express? Such a thing was impossible.

And yet, it did somehow lighten her heart to see the new students so excited about arriving to school. She too was excited, even if this would be her fourth year attending the school the ride of the train was always as exciting as it had been her very first time.

"You haven't changed yet, Sig?" A familiar voice made her look up from the book she had been obviously ignoring in her lap, her brown eyes darting up to find Elladan stepping inside her compartment, his twin brother at tow. Both of the twins were already wearing their school robes, the Gryffindor badge splendidly glowing on them.

"Are you reading?! Seriously, Sig?" Elrohir said before she had the change to speak, dropping himself casually next to her as his silver eyes mocked her, his long dark hair falling over his right shoulder and down his back. The twins were in her class at Hogwarts, and they had been close friends wince their first year. Both of them were chasers in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and they were the living description of trouble.

"I was about to change before you two dropped in." She scolded them, placing a curl of her hair behind one of her ears and quickly throwing her book back in her trunk. She had not managed to read a single sentence through the entire journey.

"Do you think Tilda will be a Gryffindor too?" Elladan changed the subject, his eternal smirk always present on his face, never taking anything seriously.

"I want her to." She said, quickly throwing her school robes over her clothes as she felt the train slow to a stop. "I _do_ know she's terrified of ending up in Slytherin. Besides, Bain and I are both in Gryffindor, so I bet she feels the pressure of that."

"Well, Dan and I are both in Gryffindor, yet Arwen is in Ravenclaw."Elrohir pointed out lazily, eyes focused on the first-years still piling over the windows, a very _very_ familiar grin growing on his handsome face.

"You told them they would see the castle through the windows, right?" She accused, already knowing the answer. A new grin on Elladan's face, mirroring that of his twin, was all she needed as a confirmation, and she slapped a hand to the elder twin's shoulder as a reponse.

"Ouch!" Elladan complained, even if his victorious grin never left his face, on ehand rubbing his shoulder exaggeratedly.

"You are horrible." She scontinued to scold, even if she could not hold back a laugh. Mean as it had been, watching the new students piling on the windows _had_ been funny.

"You enjoyed watching them run desperately to the windows, Sig, I know you did." Elrohir's eyes narrowed in her direction, the train now coming to a full stop, and the students started descending into the moon-lit pavement in a slow, almost lethargic manner.

"Come, let's get out of here before we get stuck behind Hagrid and the newbies." Elladan said, stepping out into the corridor and easily making a way for them through the mass of students. Then again, making way had never been hard for the twins, she was sure they knew positively _everyone_ in the school, so evidently all of their friends would easily let them throw and get ahead in the crowd. She wished she had even half of the popularity the twins had, her life would be so much easier if she did.

It was starting to rain outside, the thin drops of water splattering on her head as she quickly drew up the hood of her robes hurrying to one of the horseless carriages through the crowd with the twins following close behind her.

"First-years, this way!" She could hear Hagrid roaring over the noise, his bulky figure standing out even in the absence of light as a small crowd of nervous kids started to gather around him, some staring at his enormous figure with wide, unbelieving eyes – muggle-born kids most probably. She caught sight of Tilda for a second, standing almost awkwardly among the new students, large blue eyes staring at Hagrid with fascination. She caught her young sister's eyes for only a moment, and she used to wave at her quickly, a gesture that was returned before Hagrid starting to lead the first-years away and towards the boats. She did not envy any of them in the slightest – they would all be soaked once they reached the castle.

The ride in the horseless carriages was uneventful, Arwen and Eowyn sitting with them in silence, the latter with her eyes lazily skimming through the newest edition of _the Quibbler_, seeming to be mocking the articles rather than actually reading them.

Inside, the castle was as warm and welcoming as it always was, feeling like the home she had abandoned for the few months of summer. Long lighted torches illuminated the old stone walls, so old she swore she could hear them whispering to each other of all the things they had seen and witnessed. Luckily, this year Peeves was not waiting for them at the Entrance Hall with one of his many tricks – which sometimes could prove to be extremely annoying really. Instead, all the students marched with tired feet and hungry stomachs into the majestic Great Hall, were the thousands of candles floated already lighted with warm flames underneath he enchanted ceiling high above their heads. She absently noticed that it was raining too on the enchanted ceiling, as if to perfectly imitate the weather outside.

Sigrid silently made her way to the long Gryffindor table, taking a seat next to Eowyin – her closest friend. She was much too hungry to even think of starting a conversation, only silently wishing for the sorting ceremony to be over soon so that she would enjoy the welcoming banquet. Elladan and Elrhoir sat nearby, next to their friend Aragorn, and she held the urge to roll her eyes at the three of them. They were inseparable, and they were _never_ up to any good when together.

"I'm starving!" Eowyn complained to her right, dropping _the Quibbler_ unceremoniously over the table.

"Yeah, me too." Was all she said as her eyes wondered about the quickly filling up Great Hall, students already chatting loudly among each other as the four tables started to get more and more packed.

"Do you think we will get some good new students? We haven't won the House cup for the past three years." Eowyn kept on talkin, her gorgeous blond hair spilling over her shoulders and onto the table as she leaned her elbows onto the wooden surface.

"I hope so." She replied absentmindedly, her attention suddenly caught by another group of students at the Slytherin table, the farthest from them. He sat in his usual spot, always looking like the King of the table, and surrounded by his minions. Pale face, with features more apt to be in heavenly marble statues rather in actual living beings, staring disinterested around him, perfectly composed and cold. Long platinum hair spilled down his perfect back as his ice colored eyes, of an impacting blue like no other she had ever seen, gazed at the high table for a moment. Sigrid saw the fiery-haired Slytherin girl who seem to always be next to him saying something to him quietly and he turned to answer her, an haughty smirk that made her stomach twist forming on his too perfect face.

"Ugh." She heard Eowyn to her right, her eyes too staring at the Slytherin table. "Another year with Thranduil around. He thinks he is the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts, and all because his father is stupidly rich."

She let out little chuckle, turning her attention back to the Gryffindor table. She was very well aware of Eowyn's particular hatred for Thranduil ever since the Flying class in which he had by far exceeded her talents. She was the Gryffindor seeker and there was _nothing_ that could put her friend in a sourer mood than admitting that someone could fly better than her. Still, there was something about Thranduil that made him feel absurdly powerful, his face always unreadable, impenetrable, as if merely the way he carried himself, always so graceful, demanded respect and admiration from the fellow students. He was in his sixth year, and had been Prefect of his house and was now Head Boy of his house. He did not seem to have many friends, she had noticed, and yet students always moved out of her way as he walked, the younger ones staring at him in awe.

Thankfully, she did not have much time to ponder on her thoughts, for the large doors of the Great Hall opened once more and a stern-looking McGonagall marched inside in long strides, followed by a line of awed and nervous looking first-years. They stood in a messy line in front of the steps that rose the high table from the rest of them, staring with frightened eyes at the Sorting Hat and stool already waiting form them at the front.

Silence fell over the Great Hall almost immediately, heads moving from left to right to tried to get a better look at the scared new students crammed in front. McGonagall started speaking, but Sigrid was too busy trying to find Tilda in the crown to listen to the speech that she heard every year before the Sorting Ceremony. Her younger sister was one of the closest to the stool, staring at the Hat with fearful blue eyes, next to a boy with long blond hair only a couple of inches taller than her.

"Archer, Alana." McGonagall started calling names, and a chubby, freckled girl sat on the stool, nearly trembling in fear.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat roared almost instantly, and a round of claps and cheers erupted in the Hufflepuff table, eagerly welcoming their new addition.

"Azu, Lee"

"RAVENCLAW!" The Ravenclaw table cheered as the boy rushed in their direction, forgetting to take off the Hat and then having to run back to return it to the stool.

"Barnner, Greg" – "RAVENCLAW!" – "Blaine, Amanda" – SLYTHERIN!" – Her eyes darted to the Slytherin table catching sight of Thranduil clapping lazily there, a ghost of a smile present on his face as his icy eyes pierced through young Amanda as she ran to join them.

"Bowman, Tilda" Her heart stopped, eyes turning to stare as her young sister nearly stumbled up the steps in her rush to reach the stool. Her feet dangled over the floor as she sat, the Hat falling down her head and covering her eyes. Sigrid held her breath, cursing herself for being so protective of her sister, but how was she supposed to take care of her if she ended up in another house? And she waited…and waited…and-

"GRYFFINDOR!" She let out the breath she had been holding, jumping to her feet and joining in the cheers that exploded at the Gryffindor table.

"I did it!" Tilda nearly screamed as she threw herself in Sigrid's embrace, blue eyes shinning with excitement. "I'm a Gryffindor too, Sig! – Hi, Eowyn!" She waved

"I know!" She congratulated her, watching as she quickly took a seat at the table in one of the few empty spaces, already receiving words of welcome and handshakes from nearly every member of the Gryffindor House.

"Dorner, Frederica" – "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sigrid barely even joined in the cheers this time, still too preoccupied congratulating little Tilda to pay attention to the new dark haired girl that had come almost immediately join her sister. The list went on for a while, without her even paying much attention to the names that had bee called, Mariana Kinsar and Phillip Demetrius also joining the Gryffindor table.

"Lasgalen, Legolas." The blond boy that had previously been standing with Tilda sat hesitantly on the stool, blue eyes looking slightly scared as MacGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto his silver head.

"SLYTHERIN!" The scared boy visibly relaxed at the Hat's predicament, as if a pressure had been suddenly lifted from his thin shoulders, a small shy smile appearing on his face as he marched towards the cheering Slytherin table. Sigrid turned her attention to the cheering Slytherins, eyes almost immediately falling on Thranduil, surprised to find him smiling and clapping vigorously as young Legolas walked straight to where he was. And it was that she noticed the resemblance, it was almost impossible not to notice it, the same silvery hair that cascaded flawlessly over their shoulder and the same piercing silver-blue eyes porcelain skin. But while Thranduil's gaze seemed cold and impenetrable, Legolas' seemed shy, still touched by boyish innocence as he sat next to his older brother.

"Oh." She heard Tilda sighing almost sad. "He was nice. I hoped he would be in Gryffindor too."

"So there is a little Thranduil now." Came Eowyn's complain to her right, eyes looking at the Slytherin table with disgust. She shrugged turning her attention instead to the exquisite banquet that had magically appeared on their plates. They would start classes tomorrow, and no matter how much she had missed the castle and all of its enchanting halls, she was definitely not excited about all the work and papers that would soon fill her schedule. She chatted lightly with Eowyn and the twins for the remaining of the feast, both of whom did not look at all pleased to find that Snape was _still_ teaching potions in the castle – both of the twins were terrible at potions, and that did not help with the fact that Snape seemed to like them just as little as they liked him. Only once did she turn her curious eyes once again to the Slytherin table, where Thranduil was chatting as casually with some fellows Slytherins. The air of haughtiness never left the perfect features of his face, the other Slytherins laughing when he did and silencing when he did. And then, as if he had felt her staring his eyes suddenly flew in her direction, piercing through her and holding her in place like glaciers, so penetrating, so cold and unreadable, a winter sealed behind the ocean blue crystals, making drop her gaze back to her food almost to quickly. She waited for a moment, testing again to see if it was safe to look again, not knowing if it was relief or disappointment when she once again found him chatting almost languidly with his fellow Slytherins, not really seeming interested in the conversation and yet joining along…

Hello Just a sotry I thougth of and wanted to try. Please let me know what you think or its worth continuing it… I know I changed some of the relationships between characters and the ages of them.

Beautiful Day!

ButterPen


	2. Tell Me

She woke up late the next morning, nearly jumping out of bed and rushing to change in order to make it in time for breakfast before class. Not that she even knew which class she had first! – their schedules were to be given out during breakfast…if she had not already missed it. To her further annoyance, the bedroom she shared in the Gryffindor tower with the five other girls in her class was completely empty. Why had Eowyn not woken her!

Sigrid ran down the stairs two steps at a time, nearly knocking over a second-year student that had been peacefully making his way up the portrait whole. "Why such a hurry?" The Fat Lady had laughed at her, but she thoroughly ignored her, already making her way down the labyrinth of staircases, trying not to listen to the comments she received from the many wizards and witches hanging on the walls, who kept finding it humorous that she was so obviously late.

The Great Hall was already full with students when she arrived, but to her slight relief breakfast did not seem even close to being over. Letting out a relieved sigh, she let her fingers slide through her visibly tangled curls, pulling them up into a messy bun as she made her way to where Eowyn sat already at the long Gryffindor table.

"Why did you not wake me?" She complained, her deep brown eyes staring accusingly into her friends mild gray ones, helping herself to a slightly burnt toast – it seems that all the un-burned ones had already been eaten. Chatter flowed in the expanse of the Great Hall, cheering up the morning with the expectations of a new academic year.

"I did not think you would wake up late." Was the only answer she got, Eowyn handing her a piece of parchment. "Here, I got your schedule. Our first period is Divination – how awful is that?"

Her eyes lowered to the fine scriptures on the parchment only to find the first two time slots under the Monday column filled with the delicate letters that read DIVIATION, and it was with the Ravenclaw students.

"Do we have the same classes this year too?" She asked matter of factly, giving up on trying to bite the toast that only kept crumbling into her mouth in dry dust.

"Yeah. I already checked. And we also have most of them with the twins."

Her warm eyes searched almost absently down the long Gryffindor table, noticing both Elladna and Elrohir hunched over the same edition of the Daly Prophet, seeming to be reading it intently. A slight frown creased on her delicate eyebrows as she became aware that the twins were not the only students perched over the wizarding newspaper. On the contrary, it seemed that every student in the Great Hall was reading over it, some of them gathered in groups as one student read out loud, whispers and murmurs traveling from ear to ear until they bounded up the deaf stone walls and disappeared through the sunny enchanted ceiling above.

"Un-believable" Elladan said as he pushed the Daily Prophet back against the table, sitting back on his chair with an expression she found hard to read.

"What is it?" She asked, already too curious for her own good.

"Eowyn you've got to see this." Elrhoir stood up, carelessly sliding the newspaper across the table and nearly knocking over at least three cups of pumpkin juice in the process, saved only by their quick owners who were always fast to react whenever any of the twins was concerned.

Sigrid's pale hand reached for the paper first, quickly placing it on the table in between Eowyn and her, so that they both could read what it said.

"Has someone escaped from Azkaban?" She heard Eowyn's soft voice next to her, the sound dripping with curiosity that only made her own grow. Sigrid did not answer, slender hands already flipping through the printed pages, trying to find any article that would merit the attention of nearly all of the school on the first morning of the term.

And sure enough she found it. There, right before her very eyes in page number twelve read the tittle "EGLISH TEAM IN THE RUN FOR THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP". Her eyes almost immediately started diving through the article, not giving the tittle a second thought.

"_Yesterday evening England's Quidditch team's Coach, Philius Piers, happily announced that with their new seeker in hand, England's under seventeen Quidditch Team was once again in the run for the Junior World cup. "With Willinburg now being over eighteen years of age, we did not know if we would be able to find a suitable replacement. However we think we might have found a more than suitable fill for the empty spot. In fact, I am confident that Englad now has a very good chance of winning the cup this year." – shared Piers to the press last night. New English seeker, Thranduil Lasgalen, is a student crossing his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wrizardry, and plays the same part at the Slytherin House's Quidditch team. "His match records were very impressive, and we are always eager to welcome young students into the big league teams as most of the times they show the mot potential"- said Piers fondly of new seeker Lasgalen. – "Of course, he could have played for the Irish National team, being of Irish heritage from his Mother's side, but we feel confident that the Irish will not try to steal-_

"What?" Eowyn's gasp made her stop reading mid-sentence as a pair of quick hands snatched the paper from her. Not that she needed to keep reading anything else, she already knew what the fuss that ran quietly over the Great Hall was about.

"He's playing professionally now? With the under-seventeen national team?" Eowynn's gray eyes turned expectantly form one twin to the other and Sigird fought the urge to roll her eyes at her friend's clear tone of dislike. With all honesty – even if Eowyn was her closest friend since childhood- Thranduil was a far better seeker than her. Not that Eowyn was not good, no, but still there had not been a single Gryffindor – Slytherin match in which she had managed to catch the snitch before Lasgalen.

"Is that even allowed?" Eowyn continued, her pride taking always the most of her.

"Why wouldn't be?" Aragorn chimed in, suddenly making her aware of his presence only some spots to her left. "He's not the first student to play national. Besides it has nothing to do with the in-school Quidditch Cup."

Sigrid did not pay any more attention to the conversation, her eyes wondering to the Slytherin table in the far back, but not finding the figure she had been looking for. She did find the younger Lasgalen brother though, Legolas – if she remembered correctly from the Sorting Ceremony the night before. He was sitting peacefully at the long table, not seeming to be even aware of the muttering going on around him as he chatted with the red-haired girl she usually saw next to Thranduil.

She ignored the conversation for the duration of breakfast, not really wanting to admit to anyone that even though she really enjoyed the sport, talking about Quidditch the whole morning was not her king of thing. And by the looks of it, today Quidditch would be the topic spoken of the entire day. She had never been good at playing it – in truth she was very bad. She could not even fly properly, preferring to have both of her feet firmly on the ground.

Divination class was exactly as she had anticipated it would be. The dimly lit room in the tower smelled intensely of strange herbs she had rather not known what they were, the usual trinkets and strange artifact dangling form the walls in a creepy manner that always made chills travel down her spine. Professor Trelawney – with her too large round glasses that made her eyes pop out more that necessary- had made them chart the alignment of the planets over the past sixty years, and try to predict what had their alignment forecasted. As usual she only had to come up with creative ways of announcing catastrophes and deaths to do a good job in class, trying hard to suppress her laughter as Elladan and Elrohir kept affirming that the precise positioning of Jupiter meant that the Giant Squid would grow legs and start teaching at Hogwarts – a thing that certainly didn't seem funny at all to Trelawney.

The muttering and gossiping about the Daily Prophet's article did not stop during their Care for Magical Creatures class, and neither for their double Transfiguration period after lunch- where McGonagall had once again managed to fill their schedules with unnecessary homework that would meant she would have to study late hours on her very first weekend.

It was now near the end of the day, and Sigrid found herself walking almost reluctantly next to the twins to the torturing double hors of Potions. She was not bad at Potions – in fact she was relatively good- but that did not mean she enjoyed the claustrophobic feel of the humid dungeon walls that echoed hollowly to their footsteps as they descended ample wet staircases and into the dreaded Potion's classroom. And only to make matters worse, her double Potion's hours was with the Slytherin students, which only meant that Snape would only pick on the Gryffindors.

Sigrid walked to the table farthest to the back, throwing her thick book on the surface – which lifted a cloud of gray dust – and proceeded to take out her cauldron and possible ingredients she would need for the class, Eowyn taking the seat next to her. As usual, the classroom was dimly lit by a frail greenish light, making the space seem sickening in a very revolting way, flasks with all sort of slimy things and strange plants filling the tilted shelves on the walls. Two lit torches were the only source of light for the underground room, their fire not doing anything to warm the humid cold that clung to her like a lovers embrace through the long shadows. As customary, the Slytherin fourth-year students filled the firsts rows of the classroom, the Gryffindors eager to hide in the darker back from Snape's piercing black eyes.

The wooden door closed with a sudden bang, making her jump slightly as her heart leapt abruptly. Silence fell in the room louder than a thunder, the black cloak of Professor Snape dragging behind him like a bat's wings as he strode to the front, greasy black hair framing his cold, severe face and hook-like nose. There was no space for further chatter, all of the student's looking intently at the front, as if they already dreaded the course that was about to start.

"Open your books in page 27." Snape's icy deep voice dragged languidly as he spoke, the chilled sound making her shudder slightly as his black hard eyes waltzed over the darkened room, seeming to see everything, not a detail escaping him.

Sigrid did not hesitate, fighting hard to suppress an annoyed sigh as she opened her brand-new copy of_ Potion Making Level Four_ in the indicated page, reading the procedures to making a _Girding Potion._

"And you would think that he would waste any time in giving an introduction to the class before throwing us already into making potions again." Eowyn whispered lowly next to her.

"Is there something you would like to share with the class, miss Rohan?" Snape's voice trailed to them, and she watched Eowyn suddenly pale beside her, shaking her head no. "Then why do you not come sit at the front? Perhaps your class participation will then be audible to everyone in the room." One grayish long hand motioned solely to an empty place next a Slytherin student, Eowyn paling even more as she was forced to stand form her spot and sit all the way to the front, leaving Sigrid without a partner to complete the potion with.

"And ten points from Gryffindor due to miss Rohan's blabber."

Anger boiled inside of Sigrid's chest, her eyes flying to look at the twins who seemed about to stand up and protest if they did not know any better, and all she could do was focus her attention on the page so her book as to not do anything rash.

"Now, who can tell me-

Snape was interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden doors suddenly being opened, a low muttering growing in the room as her eyes travelled to find no other than Thranduil Lasgalen walking firmly in Snapes' direction, ice blue eyes not stopping to look at the many gazes that followed his tall figure and muttered around him. She watched him handing Snape some sort of parchment, which Snape's cold black eyes scanned silently for a second before he spoke again.

"Silence." He commanded, and once again silence fell over the room in a single second, even if the many curious gazes remained glued at Thranduil's back. And she watched too, noticing how he did not seem to be paying any sort of attention to the penetrating stares that followed him, his long silvery hair flowing down his back in a perfect waterfall, standing some inches taller than Snape himself.

Without a single word, Snape's long bony hand motioned to the corner where she sat, his movements always slow and vaporous, as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased. Her stomach turned as she realized that the only place left in the room was the one next to her – where Eowyn had been previously sitting. She did not know what she felt, but certainly not comfortable as Thranduil's lean and tall figure silently took the seat next to her, his piercing blue eyes not even turning to look at her in acknowledgement, his face as composed and unreadable as ever and she turned her gaze back to the front feeling tenser than she had at the beginning of the lesson. What was he doing in their class? He was in his sixth year and this class was for the fourth-years. Had he failed and had to re-take it? Twice?

She felt even more revolted and angered as she watched Snape's eyes following Thranduil with a slight vicious smile, letting her immediately know that there _would_ be favoritism in this class. There always was, usually biasing the Slytherins – as Snape was Head of their house- but with now Thranduil being the talk of the school there would be no doubt that he would be Snape's favored student in the class.

"As I was previously saying." Snape continued, all eyes once again focusing on his bat-like figure at the front "Who can tell me what the function of a Girding Potion is?"

She watched all eyes turn to look down at the books, clearly no one wanting to make eye-contact and be called on by Snape.

"Nobody?"

She raised her hand, not really knowing what mad her do it.

"Yes, miss-"

"Bowman" She said, feeling another pang of anger at Snape's clear disinterest in even learning her name. She had been in his class for three years now!

"Yes, miss Bowman?"

"The Girding Potion may be consumed to increase one's endurance for a considerable number of weeks." She spoke, her voice sounding frailer than she would have liked, clearly showing the lack of confidence she was feeling under Snape's penetrating eyes.

"Almost copied from the textbook. Now tell me miss, Bowman, will your lack or creativity or ability to think of ways of phrasing words by yourself interfere with your performance during this class?" Anger boiled inside of her, raging in her veins worse than before, making her regret thinking that getting a correct answer would be possible in Snape's class. She did not answer the question that had been thrown unjustly at her, knowing that it was better to hold her tongue than trying to say anything else for the duration of the class.

"Perhaps it is indeed a good thing that Mr. Lasgalen is sitting next to you. Maybe you will actually learn something this year."

Her eyes flew to glare at the pages of her book, not daring to look anywhere else as she dug her nails into her fists in rage. Snape continued speaking, but she was no longer paying attention, simply focusing on trying not to yell anger as she took her quill and started to angrily scratch over her piece of parchment, making it seem she was taking notes. She dared lift her eyes only tentatively in Thranduil's direction, his pale unreadable face still gazing straight at the front, not single reaction to what Snape had said visible on those angular features. He simply sat there, next to her, without eve acknowledging that there was anyone next to him, so arrogant, the emerald lining of his Slytherin robes contrasting sharply against the icy blue color of his impenetrable irises. He had not even opened his book, but she doubted that he would need to put any kind of effort in this class in order to get a perfect score. It made her stomach turn even more, and she once again set herself to scratching her parchment with her quill, thoroughly ignoring what Snape continued to say.

"-Am I correct, Ms. Bowman?" Her head shot up, eyes glancing at the clock to find out that she had zoned out for about half and hour of what Snape had been saying, the Professor's expectant black eyes staring maliciously at her, lips smiling at the answer he knew she could not give him. Sigrid stayed silent, not daring to break the eye-contact but not daring to open her mouth. She had not heard what Snape had been saying and had no idea what it was that had been asked to her.

"Were you not paying attention?" The Potion's Professor's cold voice dripped with victory as he kept questioning her, greasy hair falling over his too pale face. "Can you not tell me the effect that dragonfly thoraxes have on poison remedy potions?"

She shook her head, wishing she could answer the question but not knowing the answer. To her further annoyance, Snape's smile only grew slightly.

"Pity." He said, cold dripping form his voice and clinging to the massive stone walls. "Perhaps Mr. Lasgalen would have the trouble of enlightening you. Care to tell Ms. Bowman what are the effects of dragonfly thoraxes on poison remedies, Mr. Lasgalen?

Snape's victorious eyes turned to look at the Slytherin seeker sitting next to her, and she lowered her gaze in shame and anger as she waited for Snape's clearly favored student to answer the question she could not.

"I don't know, sir." She lifted her eyes, looking at Snape's slightly surprised face. Next to her, Thranduil remained as stoic and unreadable as ever, ice blue eyes staring at Snape blankly as his deep voice echoed quietly in the room.

"You do not know?" Snape repeated slowly, as if not wanting to believe the answer he had been given, mouth twisting in cold disappointment.

"No, sir." Thranduil repeated, his face still unreadable, eyes impenetrable.

"The dragonfly thoraxes are…" Snape's voice trailed off around the silent room, merely continuing through his class as if Thranduil had delivered a perfect answer, and it once again made her veins boil to find out that Slythering had not lost any points because of that. Had it been Gryffindor she was sure Snape would have subtracted at least fifty points for that blunt answer. And yet, as her eyes wondered over the table she shared with the tall Slytherin Seeker and fell over the parchment where he had been silently taking notes in his perfectly tilted calligraphy, her eyes could neatly read down at the bottom of the page all the things that Snape had previously said about dragonfly thoraxes. He had known the answer. He had notes on it on his parchement. Then why had he not said he knew?

At that moment, however, the enchanted clock on the wall announced the end of classes, students eagerly standing up before Snape could say anything and quickly packing their books back in their bags. Beside her, Thranduil quickly stood up, once again not even bothering to look at her – or at anyone for that matter- fastly gathering his things and striding outside the room before anyone else.

"I hate Snape." Elladan complained as they tiredly made their way up the stairs form the dungeons.

"He made me sit at the front!" Eowyn joined in the rain of complaints that had been falling out of the twins mouth's ever since they left the classroom. "And he kept picking on you, Sig!"

"Yeah, he did." She said, no longer finding herself angered, her hunger taking control of her at the moment, eager to arrive to the Great Hall.

"Oh but his face when his star student Lasgalen could not answer his question was the best I've seen in a while." Eowyn continued, and she did not miss the disgust in her friend's voice as she pronounced the Slytherin Seeker's name.

"Yeah, that was the best." She agreed half-heartedly, already zoning out on some sort of gossip that Elladan and Elrohir were rambling about. She did not know why, but she had not wanted to say to Eowyn that Thranduil had indeed known the answer Snape's question. He had not done so in class. But then why?

Here is chapter 2! Enjoy!


	3. Sugar Quills

October arrived with its usual chilled breezes that carried away thousands of orange and reds leaves, floating like sparks under the cloudy skies. Much to the student's chagrin, it also meant that the work load had nearly doubled and many were forced to spend late hours on the library writing long and tedious reports for the many courses they were taking. And it seemed that as Saturday approached, bringing with it the first outing to Hogsmeade, the ambience felt more and more desperate, the longing to step out of the these heavy stone walls and dizzying homework becoming tangible.

A book landed heavily in front of her on the long wooden table, her favorite and most frequented table in the library. Sigrid looked up, deep brown eyes easily finding her friend's sky blue ones, looking at her almost expectantly. It was already dark outside, classes having ended a couple of hours ago.

"You are still here?" Eowyn's voice reproached her, her friend's thin pale arms crossing over her chest, her long blond hair falling in neat waves that perfectly framed her beautiful face. Sigrid rolled her eyes, not even attempting her annoyance.

"I haven't finished McGonagall's report." Was all she provided as an answer, delicate fingers placing back a strand of hair that had rebelliously fallen out of her long braid.

"You'll never finish McGonagall's report, Sig!" Her friend complained, even though she could very well see the little smile playing at the corner of her lips, almost making fun of her as she let herself drop onto the chair directly in front of her. "You always work until the last minute, and frankly I don't know _how_, because you are the most organized person I know!"

"Oh, sush!." She chastised, fighting her urge to roll her eyes as she simply closed the open books piled in front of her and threw her parchment full of annotations carelessly inside her bag before fixing her attention once more on her impatient friend. "So why are _you_ here? I know you did _not_ come to study."

At this Eowyn's eyes twinkled with a newfound excitement that Sigrid knew could only bring either trouble or humiliation for her.

"No." She hurried to say, already standing up before her friend quickly pushed her back down.

"You have not even heard me yet!" Eowyn complained, and she crossed her arms, giving her friend a skeptical look as she gave her chance to speak.

"I heard that the Slytherins are running their Quidditch team trials right now, and I thought that maybe we should go check them out. You know, see how they fly and what their strategies are. I refuse to lose against them this year, Sig!"

"Are we even allowed to go there? Would that not be cheating?" She was already dreading the thought of sitting there in the Quiddicth field and hearing her friend talking on and on about how they could do to win this year. In all honestly, she could not have cared less about who won the House cup that year, but apparently that was all that Eowyn could think of. She did not want to waste her evening sitting there just watching, but then again, if it was the Slytherin Quidditch team they were watching, it meant that Thranduil Lasgalen would be there, and something about him still immensely ignited her curiosity and fascination. He still showed up for their potions class regularly, but had never again sat next to her, Eowyn taking her usual spot by her side. He sat at the front of the dungeon, to one corner, always surrounded by his Slytherin followers, and never participated in class either, never raising his hand or answering any questions posed by Snape.

"It is not as if it is forbidden to watch the Quidditch trials, Sig. Come on! Pleeaassseeeee." Her friend begged, already standing up and starting to drag her out of the library.

"Fine." She agreed half-heartedly, following her friend out of the library and through the endless stone corridors. "But you owe me a butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Deal!" Her friend squealed, her long golden hair cascading messily down her back as she nearly ran down to the Quidditch field, Sigrid having to hurry in order to catch up.

When they arrived there, the trials had already started, a bunch of students already flying in their brooms at a speed that made it almost impossible to discern a single face. To her surprise – no, she wasn't really surprised at all- Elladan and Elrohir were already there waiting for them, sitting at the lowest row of seats, were they could pass almost unseen by the rest of the small spectating crowd.

"I knew you would come." Elladan teased Eowyn as soon as they sat down, silver eyes grinning along with his playful smirk. "You could not handle the curiosity of not knowing exactly who would be your competition."

"Oh, shut up, Peredhel." Eowyn replied, not able to hold back a small laugh.

"Do you want some treats?" Elrohir chimed in, his eyes sparkling with the same playfulness as his identical twin, holding up a small paper bag filled with all sorts of deliciously looking pastries.

"I'd be turned into a Grindylow before I accept something edible coming from either of you, Ro." Sigrid said, trying not to laugh at the twins' exaggeratedly offended expression.

"These are from the kitchen, Sig, its safe to eat them. All we did was steal them from it." Elladan declared proudly, and suspiciously she allowed herself to take one of the pastries from the bag, about to give it a generous bite when Elrohir interrupted her once more.

"Or perhaps we did do something to them, did we not, Dan? I cannot seem to remember?" He mocked, his face a mask of faked confusion, making her automatically drop the pastry back in the bag with its sibbligns.

"I dunno, Ro, did we?"

"Nevermind, I'm not having any of those." She concluded, her eyes sweeping once again through the flying students as the small crowd suddenly erupted in cheers, leaving her slightly confused for a second.

"What happened?" She could hear Elrohir asking Eowyn silently. Apparently the younger twin had been too preoccupied counting his pastries to noticed what was going on around them.

"Someone just scored." Was Eowyn's short explanation, and Sigrid let her deep brown eyes follow the lean flying figure cheering along with the crowd near the goal posts.

"I despise her." She heard Elladan muttering to her right, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Who is she?" Sigrid asked, her eyes still studying the girl that just managed to score the first goal in the trials. She had long dark hair, nearly black, falling perfectly straight in a single ponytail, and even thought she could not make any specific featured from the distance, she could tell that she was indeed very beautiful.

"That's Alexis Sonnet, she's a fifth-year, and has been in the team for the pat three years I think. And she _always_ scores first in every single match." There was a deep stain of bitterness in Elladan's voice as he spoke that only made her chuckle in return, receiving a glare from his silver eyes.

"And who is the keeper?" She hurried herself to ask, searching to deviate the conversation, her eyes once again flying up to stare at the clumsy looking student guarding the goals posts, who seemed to be lacking some confidence and instead looked positively scared right were he was. A few meters above, she could see the tall figure of Thranduil sitting still on his broom, seeming to be carefully observing the trials from high above. Was he the captain? She was not sure, but he must be, right?

"That one is Bernny Bouchard. It's sad that he's the only one trying out for keeper this year." Elladan laughed, silver eyes filled with mirth. "They might have a very good set of catchers, but with poor Bernny it will not be hard to score."

She laughed too, the Slytherin crown once again erupting in a round of cheers as Alexis Sonnet scored a second goal, leaving the poor Bernny with his small rounded face all red with embarrassment. Alfter a while, or what seemed like an eternity to her, the flying students finally descended back to the ground, meeting in a small circle, no doubt to hear the results of the trial. As she had guessed, Thranduil was indeed the captain of the team, the rests of the students circling around his tall lean figure as he spoke to them, even though she could not hear a single word he was saying through the distance. His long silvery hair looked as perfect as ever, looking almost white under the ghostly moonlight, his face always serious, impossible to catch a single emotion, a single thought through that marbled pale skin.

"So that is Downy, Kim, Bouchard, Park, Sonnet…"She could hear Eowyn listing silently the names of the students who had apparently made it to the team, but she did not manage to hear all of the names. Something else had caught her attention in the middle of the field, something that to her horror and shock made her stomach tie into a tight unpleasant knot, accompanied with a feeling she had never experienced before, but was now utterly sure she disliked. The Slytherins were now walking back towards the changing rooms in silence, some of them dragging their brooms carelessly behind them, their emerald robes glistening in accordance to the nightly-lit grass. Alexis Sonnet had one of her pale thin arms wrapped around Thranduil's middle as they walked, seeming to be clinging to him in a way that made her suddenly have the urge to break that delicate arm into pieces. The dark haired catcher was smiling up at him saying something she could not hear, a green monster appearing in her stomach as she saw him lean down to kiss her lightly.

"Ha! So Lasgalen has a new girlfriend." She pretended not to have heard Elrohir chanting mockingly, seeming to enjoy the situation she clearly was not. "Oh, Slytherin girls are going to be crushed."

She looked away, the image still engraved in her mind and she could not find it in herself to even participate in the conversation as she followed Elladan Elrohir and Eowyn back into the castle, the three of them still talking about what would be their game strategy for this year. She even tried to reason with herself, telling her that it should not have bothered her at all to have seen Thranduil Lasgalen kissing Alexis Sonnet. She did not even know him! Had never even talked to him once! And yet somehow it did bother her. And of course he would have a girlfriend, he was simply the most handsome, most popular, most admired Slytherin who so happened to be the seeker and captain of the Quidditch team, Head of his house, top student in his class, heir of a well known family of stupidly rich and influential wizards, _and_ was now to be a professional Quidditch player. What had made her even _think_ that there was a change he would be single.

They marched all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, Sigrid not once even pretending to be listening to their conversation any longer, and as soon as they had reached the common room, she hurried to sit a the farthest corner of the room, by one of the largest windows overlooking the grounds, and quickly drew out her books and halfway written report, diving into them as an excuse for no one to talk to her. And to her relief no one did, all of them once again assuming that she was only worried about her homework, none of them even noticing that her mind was completely out of the written words in front of her.

The next day came by with what seemed to be a fresh start, Sigrid happy to find that she felt once again untroubled, somehow managing to put that green monster that had appear so suddenly and unexpectedly back inside a little deep box in the farthest corner of her mind. The chilled air drummed against the window panes, carrying dried leaves off al tonalities of gold and red with it as she and Eowyn lazily made their way down into the spacious common room. It was finally Saturday, and frankly she could not wait one more second to be outside the castle walls and strolling around the charming little town of Hogsmeade.

"It's so bloody cold outside today." Was all Elrohir said as a greeting as he met them at the end of the small staircase by the fireplace, wrapping his red and gold scarf securely around him.

"Where's Dan?" She asked, quickly finishing up buttoning her cloak and grabbing a few things before starting to head the portrait hole. She checked her pockets quickly, counting one a few couple of galleons, but that would be enough money for their trip today. She did not have very much. Her father had been struggling for the past years after the death of her mother, but they had enough to live happily and that was all she cared about.

"I've no idea." Came Elrohir's reply as he shrugged, clearly not interested in his twin's affairs at the moment. "I just want to go get some breakfast. I'm starving."

"Sigrid!" A little voice called behind her, and she immediately turned, just in time to see her little sister approaching quickly down the small staircase, already dressed in her day clothes.

"Can I come with you? please? I want to go to Hogsmeade too." Tilda begged, her large blue eyes pleading with that puppy dog look she had learned to master over the years, and it did'nt matter that her sister was now eleven years old, that looked still fit her perfectly.

"Tilda, you know you can't until you're a third-year." She explained again, watching as the girl rolled her azure eyes and crossed her arms rebelliously.

"But there's nothing to do here. I want to go too!."

"I don't make the rules." She laughed. "Go outside with Bain, maybe walk around the lake, that's fun isn't it?" She suggested, but from the look that the girl threw her her suggestion had not sounded fun to her at all.

"I guess I'll do something with Frederica. Maybe Legolas will join us too." Tilda's face fell as she spoke, and Sigrid's curiosity had her biting her tongue in order to force herself not to ask about her sister's friendship with the younger Lasgalen. "Will you bring me something, Sig? A sugar quill? Please?"

"Alright." She agreed, turning back and hurrying to catch Eowyn and Elrohir who were already marching down the stairs and towards the Great Hall.

Breakfast went uneventful, Sigrid happily chewing on her toast as she read the Daily Prophet, but nothing new seemed to have happened – or at least nothing that she considered merited her attention and interest- and sooner than she had expected she found herself walking excitedly down to the Entrance Hall, followed by Eowyn and Elrhoir, as McGonagall counted them as she let them walk in a line outside into the chilled grounds and towards the small nearby town.

"It's really cold." Eowyn complaied as she braced her dark winter cloak tighter against her, burying her chin in her red and gold scarf.

"Told ya." Elrohir teased from behind her. "Eh! Strider!" She heard Elrohir yelling, completely uncaring of McGonagall's disapproving look at his behavior as he hurried to catch up with Aragorn who walked a couple of meters in front of them, the two of them already laughing about something and positively seeming to be up to no good.

"Do you want to head to the three broomsticks?" Eowyn suggested as they made their way down the crowded little alleyways of the town, students hurrying to get into any business in order to get out of the chilled October wind.

"I've got to go to Honeydukes f-." She was cut-off as a small crowd of overly excited Ravenclaw's collided with her, managing to make her ungracefully to the ground as they passed, a Ravenclaw girl also falling on the ground next to he.

Sigrid rushed to get back on her feet, throwing a hysterically laughing Eowyn a deathly glare before quickly brushing away the dirt from her black cloak.

"Sorry." Said the Ravenclaw girl without even so much throwing a look at her before rushing to catch up with the rest of the crowd of giggling girls, who were heading into the Three Broomsticks by the looks of it. Now she was sure they would have a lot of trouble in trying to find a decent table to sit.

"Why the rush?" She asked in s lightly annoyed tone, adjusting her scarf so that the wind would not chill her to the bone. "One would think that they would run out of butterbeer."

"Who knows?" Eowyn shrugged, managing to control her fits of laughter. "Do you mind if I go to Zonko's while you go into Honeydukes? I want to check if they have anything interesting there."

"Sure" She agreed. "I'll meet you here in while then."

Ewoyn nodded her head, already starting to march away and she turned around to enter the cozy little candy store that she could already see was packed with students. The chatter inside the local was so loud that she did not even hear the little golden bell ringing at the door to announce her entrance, and the smell of all sorts of magical sweets filled her nostrils as she slowly made her way through the cluttered shelves, all packed with all sorts of enchanted candy.

It did not take her long to find the sugar quills, all standing beautifully in one of the lowest shelves, of more colors and flavors than she remembered. She picked one almost randomly – Tilda would like any really. The sugar quill was not really expensive, so that meant that she would still have enough to have a butterbeer and lunch later with Eowyn – and Elrohir if he decided to make an appearance.

"Excuse me." A deep voice from behind her nearly made her jump in surprise and she turned around quickly only to find no other than the tall figure of Thranduil Lasgalen standing right in front of her, ice blue eyes fixed on her with their usual concealment, unreadable, impenetrable. She stood there, trying not to show her surprise on her face as she quickly placed a lock of her long blond hair behind her ear, not really knowing what else to do with her hands.

"You're standing in front of the shelves." Thranduil continued, throwing her a slightly puzzled look, and she was sure that at that moment she must have looked like a retard.

"Of course." She said, not really sounding friendly, slowly stepping to one side so that he could reach the shelves behind her.

"Can I ask you which of these is better?" He turned around to face her once more, his expression as composed and silent as it always was, and yet somehow the tone of his voice did not carry any of the arrogance that she had always imagined it would. She turned to face him once more, finding him pointing at the long line of sugar quills. "I see you're getting one so you must know."

"It depends on which flavor you like." She answered logically, not really understanding his question. And to her surprise the faintest of chuckles left his mouth.

"That's the thing, I don't like any."

"Then why are you getting one?" She questioned before she could even think of it, and she was sure that this time she had not managed to hide her confusion from showing on her face.

"It's not for me." Was his short reply, not giving out any details, a thick eyebrow raising high into his flawless forehead as he continued speaking. "Can you help me decide?"

"And you don't like _any _of the hundreds of flavors that are here?" She crooked her head as she asked once more.

"I don't like candy."

"That's impossible. _Everyone _likes a least one sort of candy." She spoke again before she could even stop her tongue. Everyone liked candy, right? Not all types of candy, but at leas one? She studied his face to see if he was merely having fun at her expense and laughing internally at her, but once more found herself staring at those ice colored yes that let nothing past their glacier barrier.

"Alright then," She spoke again, feeling more awkward by the second. "Then, take this one. It's my favorite." She said, randomly pointing at one of the sugar quills on the shelf and watching as he picked it in his slender hands and carefully read the label on it, his face suddenly portraying a surprisingly amused expression.

"Spicy mustard?" He read the label out loud, and it once again took all of her will power to not let her eyes widen and her face blush as he looked her over skeptically, seeming to be clearly very amused at her choice. "That is your favorite, and the best you can recommend?"

Oh he was totally judging her now , she could tell, and somehow –although she never really knew _how_\- she managed to keep her expression firm and steady, cursing her luck that the quill she had to point to had to be the one with the most eccentric of flavors.

"Yes, it is. And what do you know if you don't like candy?" She replied, even though her stomach wanted to lurch at the thought of even trying that sugar quill. It must taste awful.

"Alright…." He spoke, the expression on his eyes clearly one that seemed to be greatly questioning her choice of flavor, but deciding not to fight her in the matter. Sigrid opened her mouth to say something in return but another voice suddenly interrupted them.

"Thranduil! I found them!" A cascade of silky dark hair suddenly appeared around a corner, a delicate pale arm wrapping around Thranduil's as thin hand held up a transparent bag full of something that appeared to be some sort of chocolate covered candy. The girl's eyes suddenly flickered in her direction, surprise evident in her face as she offered Sigrid a polite – yet not very friendly- smile. "Who's your friend?"

For the first time she saw a look of surprise cross Thranduil's expression as he opened his mouth to speak but not really saying anything. Of course he did not her name, why had she even thought he would.

"I'm Sigrid." She introduced herself, holding out a hand that much to her surprise the stunning girl standing in front of her took. "We're not really friends, I was just helping…" she blabbered, as she always did when not knowing what to say.

"Alexis." The girl said, and she felt glad to be interrupted in her blabber. Of course she had already known the girls name. And still, looking at the dark-haired chaser from a closer distance she somehow managed to look even more beautiful than she had the night before. Her eyes were the palest shade of green she had ever seen, hidden under perfectly curled and thick eyelashes. She was tall, but still shorter than Thranduil himself, and every single part of her body seemed to have been cut out perfectly by expert sculptors.

"Should we go?" Alexis' pale green eyes looked up at Thranduil, a pearly smile adorning her already striking face, and she saw him silently nodding his head as he took the little bag of chocolates in his hand, along with the spicy mustard flavored quill, and turned to heat towards the counter to pay.

She felt incredibly stupid as she stood there for a while, waiting for a couple of students to stand in the line first before she too headed towards the counter to pay. She did not want to stand right behind Thranduil and his girlfriend as they made the line, she already felt plain enough by simply being in the same room as that girl.

"Next in line?" she looked up from her wondering thoughts as a short, funny-looking witch called from the other end of the counter, and she hurried in her direction, her eyes quickly flickering over Thranduil and the stunning girl who were currently paying at the other counter. Alexis still had her arm looped through his strong one, but this time he too had an arm wrapped loosely around her waist as his other hand took out of his pocket what seemed to be handful of galleons.

"That will be ten sickles." The witch's voice made her attention turn back to her and she nodded her head, sticking her hand into her pocket, only to find it empty. Panic rushed through her as she let her hand search through every single corner of her pocket, and then search the other one as well. Nothing. She must have dropped what she had when that bunch of Ravenclaw girls ran her over on the street outside.

"Ten sickles, miss" The witch repeated, clearly getting somewhat impatient there waiting.

"I…"She started, letting out a long sigh before simply shaking her head. "Never mind, I guess I'm not taking it. Thanks." She said feeling disappointed. How could she have lost her money?!

Biting her lower lip and sticking her hands in her now empty pockets, Sigrid turned around and headed towards the door. She would just have to ask Eowyn to pay for her lunch and she would just pay her friend back at the castle. Well, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but still she would not be able to bring Tilda anything. She guessed her sister would forgive her easily for it. It didn't take her long to reach the door, softly pushing it open and shivering slightly as the chilled wind immediately filtered in.

"Miss!" Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned around only to find the funny-looking witch that had helped her at the counter holding a brown paper bag for her to take. "You're leaving your sugar quill, dear."

"Oh, I didn't…" She hurried to explain apologetically, but the short witch interrupted her once more, dropping the bag on her hands.

"The young man paid for it." She said, pointing with one of her bony hands to someone outside in the street before quickly turning around and heading back towards the counter, leaving her standing there, halfway in and halfway out of the renown candy shop. Her eyes quickly looked up in the direction the witch had pointed, finding no other than Thranduil's back as he walked farther and farther away from the shop, an arm still wrapped around Alexis' tiny waist.

Here's the next chapter! Sorry for the long wait! please let me know what you think of it!

Also thank you so much to Yami for reviewing! really thank you thank you thank you!

Xoxo

ButterPen


	4. Peek

As the week progressed, the load of work only intensified for the students. The chilled autumn breeze made the golden leaves dance behind the many windows in the castle, and the warm air filled with the scent of pumpkin pie that filled the Great Hall seemed all the most inviting as Halloween quickly approached.

For the most time, Sigrid spent her days attending her regular classes and then forced to retreat in to the library or the Gryffindor common room to finish the ever growing pile of papers and homework. Eowyn joined her almost every evening, and she was ever amazed at her friend's ability to concentrate and get work done while complaining non-stop about the work load. Professor Flitwick had assigned them a paper about the history of levitating spells and its best uses, while McGonagall had them practicing how to turn a hat into a singing bird – which so far no one but Elladan and Elrohir had been able to do, a thing that seem to surprise everyone in class.

And Snape, oh Snape had not stopped picking on the Gryffindors every chance he got during potions, and it seemed that every period they got with Snape meant that Gryffindor would lose from ten to fifty points for whichever reason he could find. She would always sit at the back of the dark classroom, next to Eowyn and the twins, and pray that she would not be called on for any answer. But they all soon learned that Snape only ever called on Lasgalen, and he always delivered a perfect answer. It never ceased to enrage her. She had not spoken to Lasgalen since their encounter in Honeydukes two weeks past, and she had never had the chance to thank him for paying for the sugar quill she was going to gift Tilda when she had lost her money. Bu then again, he did not ever even turned to look at her in class and she figured that he most not even remember of her existence, so why bother thanking him when he would even remember her name.

"I hate Herbology." Eowyn's voice complained to her left as they crossed the vast green land back towards the castle, leaving the greenhouses behind. A group of Hufflepuff boys walked closely beside them, seeming to be chattering excitedly about the class and only making Eowyn roll their eyes at them.

"I do not mid it" She answered her friend while trying to suppress a light laugh. Eowyn seemed to only like those classes where she could see some action, such as flying class or defense against the dark arts and care for magical creatures – all of which made Sigrid a bit nervous, in truth.

"You like every class, Sig." Eowyn mocked her as they stepped into the welcoming warmth of the entrance hall.

"Eowyn, look!" She whispered in a low voice, pulling her friend close by the arm and giving her friend _that_ stare.

"What?" Her friend's brow narrowed in confusion momentarily before her blue eyes followed Sigrid's to land on the long intricate archway where a Gryffindor was currently kissing a Ravenclaw girl behind one of the columns. Sigrid could feel her friend's eyes widen next to her a she let out another low chuckle.

"The twins will murder Aragorn for that." Eowyn whispered as they continued their way down towards the dungeons for the dreaded period of potions with the Slytherins. "Do you think they know that he has been kissing Arwen behind their backs?"

Sigrid shrugged. "I don't think they know yet, but this is not the first time I've seen them. Dan and Ro will probably throw a fit once they find out."

"That's got to be worse than Peeves when angry." Eowyn laughed. "Hush, here they come!" Her friend hurried to whisper as they took their usual seat at the back of the classroom, the twins very loudly chattering as they took the desk next to them.

Silently, Sigrid pulled her thick potion making book out of her worn out bag, ignoring whatever conversation the twins and Eowyn had established at the moment, only barely noticing that they where apparently laughing about some poor Hufflepuff kid who had forgotten to skip the disappearing step in the stairs. Instead she let her eyes wonder through the dimly lit dungeon, exploring the making flasks of strange glowing things floating in them and past the many old cauldrons stocked in one of the bottom shelves.

The murmur of chatter in the room grew louder as more of the Gryffindors and Slytherins walked in and took their usual seats, visibly dividing the classroom with the Slytherins at the front and the Gryffindors at the back – where they could be more easily ignored. Out of impulse and curiosity she let her eyes wonder freely through the emerald lined robes, searching for that striking waterfall of silver hair, but he had not arrived yet.

"Silence." Snape's cold voice floated over the dungeon as the heavy door slammed closed behind him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Elladan- or was it Elrohir?- quickly jumping drown from over the table to resume his seat before he could get yet anther detention.

She could feel Snape's coal black eyes travelling the room slowly, cold gaze seeming to be assessing every student, and Sigrid wondered whether he was already picking who would be his victim for the class. As usual, Snape gave some sort of introductory explanation about the potion they would brew during class before letting them have a go at it, and before she knew it she was already throwing strangely-looking things into her own flaming cauldron.

"Is yours pink too?" Elladan asked to her left, and she turn only to find his silver eyes looking worriedly at the thickly pink and bubbling liquid in his cauldron, his twin laughing loudly at his side.

"What did you put in there?!" She asked, looking instead at her own deep grey potion. It wasn't as the book specified since it said it should be a bright silver color but at least she was closer to the color range.

"Only the things the book said!" Elladan said defensively, and yet a smirk always present in his silver eyes.

"What a disappointment from Gryffindor" Elrohir's voice lowered to a deep languid tone, dragging every word as his face morphed into a perfect imitation of Snape's ever disgusted expression, and she was only glad that said professor was currently too far away from them to notice. "Why, Peredhel, you should take note from Lasgalen's potion, see if you can actually learn something."

The four of them erupted in laughter, covering their mouths as to not be heard, Elladan delivering a playful –yet not so gentle- smack to the back of his twin's head. Her eyes automatically traveled to where he usually at the farthest front corner, only to find that the seat was still empty.

"He is not here." Eowyn added next to her, one of the twins shrugging to her left.

"I bet he can skip as many classes as he wishes and Snape will still pass him with an Outstanding." Elladan rolled his eyes as if disinterested, yet she did not miss the hidden anger floating in his relaxed tone. It was not unknown that the twins especially disliked the Lasgalens ever since their father lost the Ministry to Oropher Lasgalen ten years ago, only to step down after only two years for reasons publicly unknown.

"Would he skip class?" She asked, not seeming to believe that anyone would just skip classes at Hogwarts because they felt like it, but then again not every student had the same liking to classes as she did.

"He has a reputation for it." Eowyn answered, eyes burning with the unfrainess of the situation. "I've heard from many other students that he regularly skips class. Haldir says that he missed about half of their transfiguration classes last year."

"And when your father can donate as much gold as the Lasgalen's can to the school, you hardly have to worry about your grades. How he is top of his class, remains a mystery to me." Elladan continued, even though she was sure that Professor Dumbledore would ever accept money to pass a student who did not deserved it.

"Do you think that's why he is in the fourth year's class?" Elrohir mocked, his eyes darting to the empty spot in the corner, where Snape's star student was obviously absent. "Because he failed it twice?"

"Silence!" Snape's voice chilled the air once more, and her eyes immediately looked down as she realized that he was now standing next to their table, coal eyes staring icily at them beneath the curtain of greasy black hair. "And the four of you have gained yourselves detention with me this weekend."

That seemed to do it to silence them for the rest of the class, even though she could see the twins throwing angry glances at Snape's back whenever they got the chance. Sigrid returned her attention into her disgustingly looking potion, even though her mind kept wondering away from it, her eyes every once in a while turning towards the empty seat in the corner, even though she tried to tell herself to not pay attention to it. Why was her mind so much into Lasgalen anyway? None of her friends even seemed to remember talking about him anymore, all of them once again minding their own business. And yet part of her kept hoping that he would still show up for class, even if it was already late, but he never did that day. But then why? And why was she up to finding out why? Would she have cared had it been any other student? But then again he had known every single answer before, she had seen his parchment filled with intricate notes that seemed more complete than even hers. Would someone skip class whenever they wanted and still take detailed notes and know all the answers whenever they did show up? That did not make much sense.

Snape's dismissal from class broke her trail of though, and she silently put away her books and cauldron before quickly walking out of the dungeon's eerie atmosphere, pretending to be listening to whatever the twins and Eowyn where talking about at the moment. She continued to pretend through dinner as well, not really tasting much of her food as her eyes kept casting glances at the Slytherin table only to find that neither of the Lasgalen brothers where there.

She forced the thoughts out of her mind, and her evening was spent like the rest of them, hidden behind a pile of work while Tilda narrated every single detail of her day to her. But still her curiosity returned when Thranduil Lasgalen did not show up for class the next day, or the day after that, or for the remainder of the week, Snape not even seeming to pay attention to the absence of his favored student.

And so she found herself spending her Friday evening in Snape's gloomy office along with Eowyn and the twins, sorting all sorts of different quirky looking bottles and vials in the shelves specified. After taking a quick glance at the twins, who had been assigned to clean the cauldrons, sorting bottles of potions did not sound so bad really, even though some of them let out a foul smell that was revolting her empty stomach.

Bellow the high window in the plain stone wall, professor Snape sat hunched over his desk, scribbling silently upon some parchments, hostile black eyes every once in a while lifting to look in their direction, quietly observing their every move. None of them had dared to say a word since their arrival at his office, definitely not risking to gain yet another detention.

Pulling a lock of hair behind her ear, Sigrid bent down to pick a vial from another box full of flasks lying on the floor when Snape's cold voice interrupted her.

"Bowman." The name dragged coldly through the still air, and she looked up to find those hard, unyielding black eyes staring at her, making her shiver slightly. "Do not put those on the shelves. Take that box to Madam Pomfrey." He commanded before once again looking down, not even looking at she silently nodded her head, bending down once again to pick-up her charge, eager to leave the claustrophobic constraints of the room.

The box was heavier than she thought, and she had to balance it with her hip to be able to carry it, the many bottles and flasks clinking against one another like dissonant little bells, echoing through the high arched ceilings and humid stone walls of the dungeon hallways. She was curious as what sorts of potions they carried inside them, some of them portraying bright colors that seemed to glow eerily, but her first priority at the moment was climbing up the many steps and into higher levels of the castle.

Outside the dungeons, the castle was unusually empty, the long imposing hallways seeming even wider in the absence of the crowds, letting her know that the students must all still be in the Great Hall having dinner. Only one or two ghosts crossed her way, but they did not pay any attention to her.

She reached the Hospital Wing quicker than he thought, silently approaching the large wooden doors just as Madam Pomfrey exited through one of them, closing it behind her.

"Good evening, dear" The nurse witch greeted her with her usual motherly smile, eyes noticing the box of potions she currently carried. "About time those were brought." She murmured to herself, signaling with a had for Sigrid to follow her through a door adjacent to Hospital Wing's main doors.

Inside, the room was long and narrow, the walls covered with shelves that reached up to the ceiling , all filled with an assortment of boxes, flasks and many other instruments she had never seen before and could even imagine what they were used for. She followed Madam Pomfrey nearly to end of the room, having to struggle to keep up with the witch's quick strides while managing not to drop the box of potions that had been entrusted to her.

"Put those here." The nurse indicate to one of the shelves with a nod of her head, not even waiting for her to put the box down before continuing. "Look at the labels on the bottles and find where they should go on the shelves, each shelf is labeled so you should have no trouble."

Sigrid nodded her head, but once again the nurse did not wait to check if her instructions had been understood, merely offering a half hearted smile before quickly exiting the room through the same door they had entered, obviously in some kind of rush.

The heavy oaken door fell closed with a deaf sound, echoing in the many bottles that lined the walls all the way to the high ceiling. Only two torches lit the room, apart from the beam of silver moonlight that filtered through the sparse high windows. Only by throwing a glance at the number of shelves that existed the pieces of the room the nurse witch had indicated her to work on let her know that she would indeed have trouble finding where to place each potion. They all looked alike!

Deciding it best to start right away in order to finish quicker, Sigrid picked up one of the bottles from the box and tried to find where it belonged in the shelves. She twisted the round bottle in her finders for a moment, looking curiously a the green glowing liquid inside it, that seemed to bubble intensely from some seconds before stopping, only to bubble again after a minute or two.

It took her a whole ten minutes to find the proper location of that specific flask, and the box at her feet was still full to the top. It was definitely going to be a long night. She shook her head in frustration, bending down to pick a second flask when the soft murmur of voices from the other side of the wall caught her attention. She stopped her hand mid-way, momentarily forgetting about the flasks on the floor at the agitated tone the voices carried, but she could not catch a single word, the stone wall too thick for the sound to travel properly through it. Yet the voices were definitely coming from the Hospital Wing next door.

She silently wondered which student had run into Peeves this time and suffered a merciless prank, or if someone had been once again dwelling in the hallways only for a curse to land on them. She shook her head once more, stretching her hand again to grab the forgotten flask when one of the voices spoke loud enough for her to catch a fragment of the sentence.

"….enough…..transfer to St. Mungos…." Sigrid did not recognize the voice, she could barely hear it, but it was enough for her mind to once again forget about the crystal bottles lying at her feet.

Her eyes darted tentatively behind her, confirming that the door through which Madam Pomfrey had left was indeed still closed before walking to the other end of the room, where a second door joined this storage room with the Hospital Wing. Orange light flickered trough the slit underneath the door, alternating from orange to black as shadows moved at the other side.

Careful not to a make a sound, she let her hand travel to the silver doorknob, the metal feeling cool against her palm as she turned it painfully slowly, taking advantage that the voices seemed to be too agitated on to notice if she took a peek. Surely no one would be watching the door that le to the storage rooms.

The bright light blinded her momentarily, and she blinked a couple of times as she tried to take a look at whatever was happening in the other room. Through the narrow slit she could see figures arguing next to one of the beds directly across from where she stood behind the barely opened door. She immediately recognized professor McGonagall in her long emerald robe and pointed hat. The other figure was no other that Snape, muttering something to McGonagall to lowly for her to hear. What was Snape doing here? She had just seen him at his office down in the dungeons.

Madam Pomfrey was sitting at the side of the bed mixing something in a long crystal glass, perfectly blocking her view of whoever was the student that lay inside the blankets.

"Drink this, dear" She heard the nurse add as she handed away the long narrow glass. "Any pain still?" If there was an answer, she did not hearing, the nurse witch still blocking her view of whoever was in the bed.

The tall doors of the Hospital Wing opened and closed once more, all of the figures turning to look as Professor Dumbledore approached, rich blue robes trailing softly behind him. She remained frozen trying not to move and hoping no one would notice if she opened the door just a little bit wider, just enough for her to see properly, even thought a voice inside her head kept telling her to shut the door and resume her boring task of staking the flasks, this was none of her business.

"What is his temperature this time?" The headmaster asked in his ever peaceful voice.

"A hundred and six." Madam Pomfrey was the one to answer, choosing that moment to stand from the bedside and search for something in one of the wooden cabinets.

Her eyes widened as she finally took a look at the student lying on the bed, but still she remained immobile. Long silver hair draped lifelessly on the pillowcases, damp with beads of seat that she could see upon his furrowed brow. Thranduil Lasgalen looked even paler than usual, his porcelain skin now devoid of color except for the bright fevered flush upon his bony cheeks. His eyes were shut tight as if in obious pain, and even through the distance she could see him shivering.

"Severus, contact Oropher Lasgalen. We are transferring his son to St. Mungos tonight." The headmaster ordered before turning once more to exit the room at a faster pace this time. "Minerva, come with me."

Her eyes once again traveled to the bed, unsure of what to make of what she was seeing, only to find a par of ice blue eyes staring directly at hers, piercing her hard and cold even through their fevered glaze, making her freeze once more under the hostile glare, anger flashing through those ice colored irises. He did not break the stare, mercilessly burning through her until she immediately pulled the door closed once more like a chastised child. She had had no right in peeking through that door, and now she had witnessed something that was not meant for her to see…

So after a long long time here is finally chapter 4! Sorry for the long wait I'll try to be faster this time! Pelase let me know what you think! I know it's a weird cross-over story!


	5. Wings and Words

The crowd roared around her, arms thrown in the air, elbows hitting against each other as cheers and yells met the loud song of sparks and small explosions from many wands around her.

"Wyne's got the Quaffle! Now Yorish – a perfect catch, that was-; Wyne again! This could be the first score of the match!" The loud voice of Royce Dorner echoed over the cheering crowd as three Ravenclaws in their royal blue robes flew suddenly past them at an incredible speed, followed closely by two of the Slytherins in their deep emerald green. The crowd only yelled louder as the chasers approached the three golden goal hoops at the far end of the field.

"Come on Wyne!" Elladan suddenly yelled to her right, somehow managing to be overheard through the crowd and leaving her half deaf in the process as he clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"Wyne's thrown the Quaffle-" Dorner kept narrating just as Eowyng managed to yell at her lungs full power to her left "The hoops are too far! Don't throw yet!" As if the Ravenclaw chaser could somehow hear her from half way across the field and many meters higher up.

"—And is intersected by Sonnet. It could have been Sofina Wyne to score the first goal for Ravenclaw." Half of the spectacting crowd bursted in a cacophony of disappointed mumurs and yells, while the Slytherin crowd, with their emerald scarves and giant banners cheered all the more loudly.

Sigrid kept her eyes glued to the flying figures, which moved too fast for her to fully see what was happening. And yet, it was impossible for her not to recognize the lean girl who flew at the head of the chase, the red Quaffle safely in hand, silky dark hair tied in a perfectly neat long ponytail. One of the Ravenclaw beaters threw a bludger at Sonnet, but the fifth-year girl easily evaded it with a lighting speed turn of her broomstick before suddenly throwing the Quaffle deftly into the air.

"Alexis Sonnet scores first goal for Slytherin!" Dorner's voice was nearly drowned as the Slytherin crowd suddenly erupted in cheers. Both Elladan and Elrohir cursing loudly beside her. "Its 10-0, Slytherin at the head of the game!"

"I want to see one game where she doesn't score first." Elrohir muttered angrily at her, his long dark hair swaying softly behind his back as he shook his head in disappointment, his twin brother matching him in expression.

"And Wyne's got the Quaffle again! It's Ravenclaw's opportunity to score! Come on Wyne!" Dorner's voice continued to rear over the crowd, his tone making it perfectly clear which house he was rooting for, even if he was supposed to narrate impartially. But then again who could blame him, nobody –except the Slytherins- wanted Slytherin to win the Quidditch cup…again.

The Ravenclaw chaser dashed at full speed towards the opposite goal hoops, barely dodging the bludgers on her way. Another Ravenclaw chaser was not so lucky though, and the crowd gasped loudly as the heavy wild ball crashed against the broom, pieces of wood flying through the air as the boy collided against one of the spectating towers and tumbled towards the ground.

"This doesn't look good for Ravenclaw, with Yorish on the floor. Let's hope he can get back in the game soon. Wyne still has possession of the Quaffle, if she can get past Bouchard it will mean a goal for Ravenclaw!"

But Bouchard would not be the problem, Sigrid soon saw. She had not forgotten the clumsy boy she had seen at the Slytherin trials, and she knew that he would not be able to cover many goals even if he tried his best, yet it was one again the Slytherin chasers who intersected the goal, making poor Bernie Bouchard's job easier for him.

Sigrid let her eyes wonder higher up in the clear sky, staring at the two seekers slowly circling above the rest of the players. Even through the distance, Thranduil Lasgalen's long silver hair was impossible to miss, the pallor contrasting sharply against the deep emerald robe. The Ravenclaw seeker seemed to be following Lasganel's flying pattern, as if focusing on him instead of searching for the snitch, and she guessed Ravenclaw's tactic would be to dash for the snitch as soon as Lasgalen did. But neither of the seekers had moved all game, barely circling slowly the filed or at times staying completely still in the air, with no sight yet of the golden winged ball.

This was the first time she saw Lasgalen after the spying she had done in the Hospital Wing a whole week ago. He had not gone to class either that whole week, and she had not seen him in the Great Halls at meals, nor at the hallways and the was yard by the lake. Curiosity still gnawed at her mind, and the image of him lying feverish and pale on the hospital bed that night was hard to forget, especially when he looked like royalty at the moment, circling the field as if it belonged to him.

A cheer form the Slytherin's made her eyes return to the game. Alexis Sonnet had the Quaffle again, then passed it to Downy, then Alexis again, then Kim and much sooner than she had expected the Slytherin crowd was again roaring at their second goal, while the rest of the crowd seemed to be loosing their hope of winning the game. Her stomach twisted wildly as Sonnet flew past where she stood, making her once again dislike the girl only because of the perfect gracefulness with which she flew, her porcelain skin looking as flawless as ever, every move perfectly calculated, perfectly executed.

Soon after the second the goal, the game became a clear massacre. Alexis Sonnet scored a third and fourth goal, while Downy scored the fifth. The Slytherin beaters seemed to be on top of the Ravenclaw chaser's every turn they took, aiming the wild bludgers at them with all of their strength, not seeming to care where they hit.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers and roars around her, student's jumping to their feet once more, jumping or ducking to get a better view, and she found herself squished in between the twins, both of them yelling too loudly and too fast of her to catch a word of what they were saying.

"Lasgalen dashes towards the ground! I think he sees the snitch! Elarion is closely behind, he might catch up still!" Dorner nearly screamed into the enchanted megaphone, and true to his words she suddenly saw tow figures darting vertically at full speed, the game seemed to have stopped beneath them just to watch. It was a competition of speed, Lasgalen visibly having the advantage but the Ravenclaw seeker remained at his heels. They darted straight towards the ground, the students in the sitting rows only roaring louder as they quickly approached the land, neither of them seeming to stop or slow down a bit, instead, they seemed to be gaining speed.

"They are going to crash." Eowyn gasped to her left, but she did not turn to see her friend, her eyes focused on the green and blue figures that indeed seemed to headed head first against the sandy ground. It seemed that Elarion had won some speed in the fall, the two seekers now shoulder to shoulder, her heart racing with the adrenaline of the game.

But neither of neither of the seekers crashed, both turning abruptly at the very last second, Lasgalen managing the move with far more ease than Elarion, the Ravenclaw seeker loosing his balance for a second and the tip of his foot dragged over the ground before he regained control of his broomstick. Yet at that point Lasgalen had enough advantage on him, having managed the turn with exact precision, and somehow now seeming to be flying even faster than before, as if he had somehow been purposely letting the Ravenclaw seeker to catch up with him earlier. And then pale slender finger were wrapping around the golden snitch, the unhappy Ravenclaw crowd drwoned by the Slytherin cheers, the rest of the team already flying towards the ground, some of them with their arms in the air in victory.

"And Lasgalen has caught the Snitch, awarding one hundred and fifty points for Slytherin and ending the match. Slytherrin wins!" Dorner declared over the crowd, managing to sound only half impartial, even though Sigrid was sure he would only go sulk and complain like the rest of the Ravenclaws as soon as he let go of the enchanted megaphone.

She could hear Elladan and Elrohir complaining beside her, but she was no longer paying attention to them, her eyes following the figure that seemed to call all of her curiosity as of late, the golden snitch still securely caged in his fingers as he rose his arm in the air, a wide grin lighting those glacial blue eyes, already dismounted from his broomstick while the rest of the Slytherin team crowded around him, jumping and cheering and clapping. She barely even registered that the crowd around her had begun to disperse, and she found herself absent-mindedly following too, climbing her way down from the seats with the mass of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Tilda and Bain must have been close somewhere, but she had not seen either of her siblings for the duration of the game.

The green monster appeared inside of her once more as she saw Alexis Sonnet already perched to him, the feeling one she utterly disliked but could not force away, twisting her stomach and burning in her veins. The girl's pale thin arms were wrapped around Lasgalen's middle, and he too seemed to be hugging her, his strong free arm wrapped tightly around her tiny waist. Some of the Slytherin students ha already ran towards their team, gathering around them while their wands threw green and silver sparks to the air.

"I want to hold it! I want to hold it!" She caught the soft excited voice among the cheering Slythering down in the Quidditch field, still carrying a slightly boyish tone, and she turned to find a young light-blond boy wriggling through the mass of students, the Slytheirns letting his pass easily.

"Thran, I want to hold it!" The younger Lasgalen asked again, a wide smile adorning his still boyish features, so similar to his older brother's. Legolas reached only slightly below his brother's shoulder, with him being only eleven, but there was look of admiration in his big blue eyes that made her smile through the distance.

She saw Thranduil handing his little replica the golden ball, silver wings fluttering quickly as if trying to get away, but held securely now in the smaller hand. Legola's grin only grew wider as some of the Slytherin's cheered at him and clapped again, his still short arm flying high in the air with the snitch, Thranduil shoving his brother playfully in the shoulder only to receive a hit in return.

"Sig! Are you coming?" Eowyn's call made her eyes travel to where her friend stood, one hand waving impatiently in the air, and only now did she realize that she had started to lag behind. Eowyn's log blond waves were draped messily over her shoulders, the wind having obviously twisted every curl out of place, but her friend did not seem to care less.

"Ravenclaw will need to beat Hufflepuff by at least two hundred points to recover from this game." Her friend chuckled as they descended the many steps and onto the ample green yard, the castle towering still some meters ahead. The mass of students walked all around them in the same direction, and, just like her friend, everyone seemed to be commenting on the game, the Ravenclaws being the only ones silent, eyes cast down and looking either sad or angry.

A sudden cheer from the Ravenclaw students made her turn her head, only to find that their Quidditch team had already joined them in their defeated march towards the castle, already out of their sapphire robes and into their black uniforms.

"I would date her." Elrohir muttered, and Sigrid followed his silver eyes to look at the Ravenclaw chaser who was narrating some very fast to a friend some meters to their right. She was tiny in size, but her facial features were perfectly angled and refined, making her baby blue eyes seem larger, golden-brown hair falling messily from her ponytail.

"You would marry her" Elladan laughed at his twin, earning a murderous glare that seemed to encourage Elladan into singing very ezageratedly "Sofinaa, I loooove youuuu."

"Shut up!" Elhorir gritted his teeth, smacking his brother behind his head, Elladan still laughing as he rubbed the spot.

"Who wants to go see if we can get the giant squid to show up!" Elladan suggested already pushing his brother towards the lake shore, where a bunch of students were already sitting in groups or throwing rocks and bread and even pumpkin pie into the water to see if they could manage a glimpse at least of one giant tentacle.

"I have to send my dad a letter, but I will meet you there shortly." She explained, Eowyn waving at her shortly before turning to follow the twins.

"Use our owl!" Elladan yelled mockingly as he grabbed Eowyn by the arm and pulling her into a near run before they disappeared through the crowd.

"You don't have an owl!" Sigrid let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she hurried up the steps and into the castle, not wasting time while she wriggled her way out of the mass of students and into the long arched hallways.

The long spiral staircase that led to the tower where school owls were kept seemed to go on forever, and she was already tired from running up once she reached the top, absently pushing the lain wooden door open and stepping into the straw covered floor.

Hundreds of owls filled the ample round room, some flying in and out the windows while other merely stood over the wooden beams holding up the pointed ceiling, their round yellow eyes staring at her. She placed a hand into her robe's pocket, confirming that her letter was indeed there, only a little wrinkled, but that wasn't a problem.

It took her a minute to decide which owl to use. Being as clumsy as she was, she was sure any owl would struggle in her hands, but she decided that the grey feathered owl resting over the window ledge looked peaceful enough. And she was wrong. No sooner had she placed her hands carefully over the owls folded wings to hold her steady when said owl tried to open her wings, forcefully beating at her hand as the head turned and quickly captured one of her finger's in its pointed beak.

"Ow!" She gasped, pulling her hands away quickly, the owl flying away from her the second she was free, and she let out a silent curse as she inspected her finger where a small – but painful – cut was left.

"Don't hold it by the wings." The voice startled her, and she turned to find piercing ice blue eyes staring at her from the newly opened door, the emerald robes from the game nor replaced by the black school robes, lined in the deep Slytherin green, the green and silver scarf wrapped loosely yet elegantly around his neck.

"Should you not be celebrating?" She asked before she could stop herself, standing up straight once more, his cold regal demeanor slightly annoying her, and yet his impenetrable blue stare seemed to be looking right through her. The wide smile that she had seen reaching his eyes only some minutes ago by the Quidditch field was gone from his face, once again a perfectly crafted marble statue, beautiful yet cold and distant.

"Should you not be by the lake with the other Gryffindors?" Lasgalen asked in return, answering her question with a question, and silently implying that what he should or should not be doing was none of her business.

Instead, he walked right past her and towards one of the lower cages, extending his strong arm and allowing the owl to fly for a little before perching on his forearm, talons gripping at the robe's dark fabric.

"Here." He said as he walked in her direction, his tone soft, but neither cold nor friendly. Silently, and feeling the weight of his icy blue eyes on her, she hurried to tie the teller to the owls' extended talon before it took flight, quickly disappearing out the window and into the low white clouds.

She had nothing else to do in the tower after that, but she did not leave, standing there for a second as she watched him tie an envelope of his own onto another owl before letting it out the window too.

"You don't have an owl?" She asked, her voice sounder colder than she expect it, and she silently smacked herself for asking such a stupid question.

His perfect eyebrows rose high on his forehead as those impenetrable cold eyes turned to scrutinize her once more. "It looks like you don't have one either." He finally said, voice cold again, and a harsh silence settled in the room for a second as she debated whether to just leave now.

"I have a cat." He broke the silence, his tone not exactly friendly but less cold that before, merely disinterested. Was he trying to make conversation with her? Why had he not left yet, if he had already mailed his letter? But then again she hadn't left either. She nodded her head, turning her eyes to look outside the window as both of them stood there in the awkward silence, the slight breeze making his long silver hair dance slightly at his back. She could see his slender fingers drumming lightly over the wooden window ledge, and she could not help but notice his left hand trembling slightly, while his right one seemed completely steady. He seemed to catch her staring, for he suddenly hid both of his hands inside his robe's pockets.

"I need your help." He suddenly spoke, making her eyes fly up once again to meet his, focusing on holding his penetrating yet enchanting gaze. That took her by surprise, and for a second she forgot that he was waiting for some kind of answer form her part.

"What for?" She asked, her voice cautious, distrustful. She wasn't even sure he knew who she was, let alone as her help?

"I need your class notes. Your potions class notes." He said after a moment, his piercing eyes never once leaving hers, holding her perfectly in place. Yet something in his tone had changed, making it sound softer somehow, as if admitting to something that he did not want to admit yet had on other option but to do so. The request surprised her once more, yet it somehow angered her and fed her curiosity.

"Why do you want my notes? Do you even know my name?" She pushed him, knowing perfectly well that he had been absent from class for two whole weeks, yet feeling slightly insulted that he would expect she would give him her work for free for him to earn a better grade than her.

"Do you take me for an egocentric ignorant?" Once again he answered her question with a question, but she understood that he must have known who she was, and once again a harsh silence settled in the room, interrupted only by the sporadic fluttering of wings high above them.

"Will you lend me your notes, or not?" He pressed after a long silence, and she felt completely trapped under that iced stare, her own eyes staring coldly back at him.

"Is it because you missed two weeks of class?" She pressed back, asking the obvious question. "I saw you at the Hospital Wing. Are you all right?" She added, wanting to get information on the question that had gnawed at her mind for a while now.

His expression hardened in return. "I don't know what you're talking about." He denied her. Oh, he knew. He had caught her looking at him form behind that door, had nearly murdered her with his eyes. And yet his suddenly hostile demeanor let her know that she had touched a sore spot. Yet she did not add that she overheard Professor Dumbledore indicating to transfer him to St. Mungos. Had he been there all week? Why was he trying to hide it so badly?

"You do." She added, ager rising inside of her at his dismissive tone. "You know I saw you that night."

"You saw nothing that night. I don't know what you're saying." He spoke harshly, his eyes burning through hers as she stood as tall as she could, still a whole head shorter than him.

"You skipped class for two weeks. Was it because of that?"

"What I do is none of your business." He answered back at her, his tone dripping ice. "I need to pas the class, and for that I still need your notes, can I have them or not?" He seemed to be loosing patience.

"Why mine? Why not ask for your Slytherin friends' notes?" Why was she being so hard on him?

"Would you trust _their_ notes?" He asked in return, raising his eyebrows at her and suddenly once more looking regal, powerful.

"No" She muttered. "But why not someone else notes?" She pressed again.

"Because…" He started, but then stopped talking and instead, pursing his lips.

"Because I saw you in the Hospital Wing, therefore _I_ would believe that you skipped class because you _had_ _to_ and not because you think its fun to skip class, and it would make me more willing to share my work with you." She guessed, and by the way in which his icy eyes turn to focus on the window without an answer she knew she had guessed right. He hardly knew her, they had never spoken before, there had to have been a reason for him to ask her specifically.

"Yes." He muttered, his voice barely audible while his eyes did not turn to look at her once more. And yet, even after he had admitted what he had seemed so intent in denying before she did not feel any better, she did not feel victorious at all. In fact, she felt horrible, if he had been ill for whatever reason or trouble or fight, she had no business in forcing it out of him.

"Fine." She sighed after a while, his impenetrable ice blue eyes turning once again to look at her. He had helped her in Hogsmeade after she had lost her money, and she had not even asked it of him, and just right now he had helped again with the owl, she could at least help him with sharing her notes. Especially when they had a potions paper due in two days that she was now positive he had not even started.

"You can have my notes." She continued, watching him nod his head slightly. "Meet me at the library tomorrow after class and you can copy them all, we can even go over the paper." She decided she would not let him have take her notes with him, after all Slytherin's were known for borrowing note and then sharing them among all of them, ensuring them all an undeserved Outstanding in class. She would not have her notes shared among all the Slytherins in her potions class.

"Thank you." He said in a gentle, yet still cold tone, turning then and heading towards the door.

"And thank you for paying the sugar quill. I owe one of those." She added at last, making him turn to look at her once more as he opened the door his lips curving up in a barely visible half-smirk.

"After trying the one you recommended, I would say you owe me two, Sigrid Bowman." He said, turning around and silently closing the door behind him, leaving her alone in the company of the school's owls, making her feel more ashamed and stupid than before. Perhaps she was the egocentric ignorant after all.

So here is chapter 5! I hope this wait wasn't too long! Let me know what you think! And thank you so much to those of you who reviewed my previous chapter, your comments mean a lot to me.


	6. Judging

The morning light filtered through the tall pointed windows in cascades of glimmering gold, bathing the Great Hall and bouncing from the four long polished tables, where students were already gathered enjoying their breakfast. Carved pumpkins with twisted faces and grinning teeth seemed to cover the spacious room, the joyful chatter anticipated the Halloween feast that night.

Beside her, Eowyn bit half-heartedly at her toast, looking only half-awake, the couple of letters that an owl had dropped beside her cup of pumpkin juice still unopened. Deciding that her friend would not be awake enough to talk yet, Sigrid took a fresh toast from the tray in front of her only to nearly drop it in surprise as a thick book landed heavily to her right, missing her own cup of pumpkin juice by mere inches.

"I don't like Flitwick" Her little sister's voice complained as she took the seat next to her, the red and gold Gryffindor scarf nearly swallowing her small throat as her arms folded over the table, pushing the plate away from her and pouting.

"Good morning to you too, Tilda." Sigrid muttered in return, holding back a chuckle as she finally bit into her buttered toast, crumbles dropping messily over her plate. "Isn't it a little early in the day to be already hating on professors? Classes have not even started."

That earned her a deathly glare form her sister's large blue eyes, yet she did not manage to look menacing at all, her childish rosy cheeks making her angry face look too cute. "I still don't like Flitwick. And I hate charms. I have double charms first thing today. Double!"

Sigrid laughed lightly at her sister, deciding it better to remain silent and let Tilda sulk and complain all she wanted to. Instead, she reached underneath Eowyn's forgotten letters on the table, where today's copy of the Daily Prophet remained still perfectly folded.

"Do you mind if I read it?" She asked, a disinterested wave from Eowyn's hands being the only reply she got, but she understood it as a yes.

She let her eyes wonder through the pages, stopping every now and then to read a specific title but finding nothing worth of her attention. There was a big advertising of a shop that had just opened in Diagon Alley, more new on the debate going around about the country's exports in cauldrons, Phius Sonnet had declared a new law regarding the ownership of venomous magical creatures, and the ministry seemed to be having trouble with apparently five muggle sightings of magic performed by underage wizards that now needed to go to trial. But apart from that, there seemed to be nothing interesting or relevant in today's paper.

"Hey, that's Legolas' father!" Tilda exclaimed suddenly next to her, pointing at a page in the paper that Sigrid had left forgotten on the table.

She let her eyes follow to where her sister was pointing and it wasn't a big article but sure enough there was a picture of a regal looking wizard dressed in expensive looking robes with equally silver hair falling long and straight down his back. His face was serious, blue eyes looking stern, imposing, powerful, and she suddenly had the feeling that he must looks scarier in real life. Below the picture and in one corer of the page read the title.

"_Oropher Lasgalen presents generous donation to the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_"

_Ex-Minister of Magic Oropher Lasgalen presented a large donation yesterday, October 30__th__, to the St. Mungo's Hospital. The donation, an amount which has not yet been released to the press, is to be dedicated to experimental sorcery and potion making advances for yet untreatable maladies and injuries. According to records this will be the third donation the Ex-Minister of Magic presents to the hospital, for which the staff is infinitely grateful and eager to…. _

She stopped reading after that. The article was really short and it did not say more about the subject than what the title said. And still, there was something about the article that sounded strange to her. It was common for influential and wealthy old families to donate large amounts of galleons to public institutions every once in a while, especially where their name was related to the Ministry. But it was definitely unusual for donations to be made repeatedly to the same institution, and she wondered for a second what business did the Lasgalens have with the Hospital.

"Are you still friends with Legolas?" She gently asked Tilda, closing the paper carefully once more before placing it over Eowyn's unread letters. Her sister's eyes turned up to look at her, placing a lock of her fine hair beside her ear before answering.

"Yeah." She shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's really nice. I wish he had been in Gryffindor but he told me he asked to hat to be in Slytherin. I didn't know you could do that. Anyway we have three classes together."

"Why would he ask the hat to be Slytherin?" Sigrid added, seeming to find the situation stranger than her little sister, for once again Tilda shrugged, as if the subject was of little interest to her.

"He said he wanted to be with his brother." Tilda said, picking her book in her hands and reluctantly throwing her backpack over one of her shoulders. "I should got o class now, before all the back row seats are taken."

Sigrid laughed again at her sister's dramatic complain, shaking her head lightly as she watched the young girl dragging her feet across the Great Hall and disappearing through the imposing open doors. And speaking of class, it was probably also time for her and the half-asleep Eowyn to head to _their_ class as well unless they wanted to receive detention with McGonagall.

"Come on." She nudged her friend, already lifting her own bag over her shoulder. It was heavier than usual, and she made a mental note to empty some books from it next time she was in the Gryffindor tower.

"Where are Dan and Ro?" Eowyn's soft blue eyes scanned the table, but Sigrid merely shrugged in return. She had not seen the twins that morning, and if she had to be honest she would rather not know what they were up to.

They made it barely in time to transfigurations, saving themselves detention but gaining the two front seats- the only two available- and right under McGonagall's ever watching eyes. At least this week they would no longer be attempting to turn a hat into a singing bird like the past few weeks – for which Sigrid had only managed to get the had to spit feathers- and were now instead turning rocks into snails.

"This is impossible." Eowyn muttered to her left between gritted teeth, once more pointing her twelve-inch wand and tapping the rock twice, only for it to bounce slightly before once again remaining an unmoving, dull rock.

"Hey, I did it!" She suddenly squealed in return, earning a murderous glance form Eowyn. Suprisingly her little rock had indeed turned into a snail….but a mere second after it returned to being a rock, making her sigh in frustration and Eowyn to laugh loudly. "I thought I had it…."

"I can't wait for today to be over." Eowyn added just as her rock bounced once more before remaining still again. "Why does mine only bounce? What am I doing wrong?"

"You're doing everything wrong. Ow! Don't poke me with your wand!" She rubbed at her upper arm, where Eowyn's wand had playfully smacked her.

"You are not doing very well either with your rock." Her fried added defensively, still her grey-blue eyes sparked with a hint of mockery that mirrored her one sided smile. "I just want to be at the Halloween feast. Let's go early this year, right after class, so we can get the best candies and pastries."

"I can't go early today." She whispered, trying not to look at Eowyn's now positively exasperated eyes.

"If it is because you have to go to the library for homework I will-"

"It is because I have to be at the library." She interrupted her friend mid-sentence, speaking faster for Eowyn to just listen before talking again. "I'm sharing my notes with Lasgalen." She blurted out.

"You're what?" Eowyn's eyes widened, her rock and wand now forgotten on the table, and Sigrid had to check out of the corner of her eyes that McGonagall was indded far enough not to catch them talking instead of working. "Why could you do that? When have the two of you ever spoken? Does he think he can just skip class and get your notes? I've heard he tends to do that, to get student's to give him their work while he skips class as he pleases. He's already Snape's star student." Her friend was rambling now, and Sigrid just glanced around to make sure that no one could overhear their conversation before whispering more quietly this time.

"I don't know." She added. "Perhaps he does need the help and is not just skipping class and getting someone else to do his work for him?"

"What would make you think that?" Eowyn folded her arms over the table, her eyes looking deeply at her as if trying but failing to understand her trail of thought. She opened her mouth, for a second ready to tell her closest friend that she had seen Lasgalen in the Hospital Wing the night Snape gave them detention and he had later –albeit reluctantly- admitted to it, but closed her mouth instead. Lasgalen had been so intent in denying that he had ever been in the Hospital Wing that she decided this was not her information to share, even though she never understood why. She did not owe Lasgalen any sort of loyalty? Shouldn't she share whatever she wanted with her best friend?

"I don't know. He just seemed very honest about needing the help." She said instead, picking up her wand and feigning that she was once again focused on turning her rock into a snail, but her mind could not be farther from it.

"Ok." Was all Eowyn said, and she was glad that her friend knew her well enough to know when to stop questioning her. "I'll save you candy."

The rest of the day went uneventful, expect for Elladan managing to get kicked out of the day's divination class for laughing at one of Trelawney's dramatic prophecies, and Elrohir for losing ten points from Gryffindor for then laughing at his brother. Eowyn did not bring the subject of her notes again, a thing she was glad for, and instead had switched the topic to all of her expectations for the Halloween feast that night, even adding that it would be interesting to see a troll- a thing that most terrified Sigrid. Luckily, they did not have potions that day, and she was happy not to see Snape's glaring coal eyes, or get any more points subtracted from Gryffindor for whatever reason they could find.

And sooner than she would have liked she found herself making her way to the library as the sky turned pink then purple in the distance, after agreeing with Eowyn and the twins that she would meet them at the feast later that night. She clutched at her books hard against her chest, the rest of them safely stuck inside her backpack, trying to ignore her stomach, which was twisting away in nerves.

Sure enough, the spacious library was empty, all of the student's no doubt making their way to the Great Hall to celebrate. Thin columns stretched up to high ceiling in the form of pointed arches, the large chandeliers bathing the room with a warm and flickering orange light, and the smell of parchment and books filled her nostrils with their welcoming and familiar aura. She scanned the room briefly, confirming that no one but Madam Pince was present, the librarian's nose hidden away inside a large tome, and only the tip of the black pointed hat was visible.

Sighing, she walked to the ample table closest to the crackling fireplace and proceeded to lay out her books neatly over the polished wooden surface. It was nice for once to be able to choose a table, since the library was usually packed with students after class. She did not have for long for, for it seemed that she had barely sat down when the door to the library opened once more, those impenetrable cold eyes finding her quickly, and she partially stiffened as he approached her.

Thranduil Lasgalen seemed to look taller than before –was that even possible?- somehow looking more regal and elegant underneath the flickering light. And yet his face remained as expressionless as ever, a stone mask impossible to break, inpossible to read through. He reached her side in no time, but did not sit down at the table. Instead, his velvet lined voice echoed through the silent hall.

"Let's sit over there." He said, his voice not leaving space for argument, not even waiting for an answer before walking away to a table of his choice, farthest from where she sat and underneath a tall crystal window.

She took a deep calming breath, forcing herself to bite her tongue and simply gather all her perfectly arrange books form the table and moving to where he sat, trying to convince herself that arguing over a table would not be worth her time. But why do things had to be _his_ way?

"What was wrong with my table?" She muttered as she dropped her books loudly over the table, not caring about arranging them anymore and earning a reproachful look form Madam Pince at the noise she caused.

"I like this one better." He said matter of factly, ever so gracefully pulling out a couple of black parchments and taking his time to place them perfectly silently over the table before using an elegant movement of a hand to beckon her to seat.

"We had more light there." She murmured as she sat right in front of him, throwing her notebook open carelessly.

"We have the window here." He answered, his voice as cold and distant as always even though she noticed there was not a single candle on that table.

"It's dark outside the window. We had the whole fireplace where I sat." She pointed out in a slightly annoyed voice, flipping through the pages of her notebook in order to find the specific section of notes that he needed.

"_Lumos"_ She heard him whisper, followed by the tip of his fourteen-inch wand suddenly brightening up in a dash of white light, his slender fingers patiently placing the wand over the table and in between the two of them.

"Is that enough light for you?" One thick eyebrow raised questioningly, his face still devoid of any expression, and she just bit her tongue again and forced herself to let go of this ridiculous argument.

"Fine." She half-said half-snapped, turning her notebook around for him to see indicating with a finger where her notes started. "From here on is what you missed. I'll be writing my paper while you copy."

She watch him nod his head, not saying anything in return, the weight of that piercing blue stare making suddenly very self-conscious, the bright white light emanating from his wand making his pale hair look almost white as it fell freely over his perfectly muscled shoulders. And then, as silently and distant as before he merely glanced down, taking his long quill in his pale fingers and starting to copy in a neat –too neat- slanted calligraphy over his own piece of parchment.

"Why do you need so many books for?" His cold velvet voice made her look up from her own parchment where she had currently been attempting to continue her paper, only to find those impacting blue eyes once again freezing her in place.

"To finish my paper." She replied with a cutting tone, barely glancing at all the books that laid open in front of her. In return, she could see both of his eyebrows rising on his flawless forehead, looking slightly amused – if anything he did could be called an expression, really. Was he mocking her?

"You don't need that many." He commented, his voice slow and detached, somehow haughty, royal, and she bit her tongue again at his comment. Why was he being so bossy? "What's the paper about?"

"Essential potion making ingredients of the Mediterranean shores." She recited, trying to keep her calm and be slightly nice. Could he not just copy her notes and be silent? She was starting to understand why the twins disliked him so much. Beyond that unnatural beauty he seemed to be as arrogant as she had heard.

She watched those cold penetrating eyes wonder over her many books for a second before his pale slender fingers suddenly picked one, turning a couple of pages and pushing it in front of her to see.

"There's your paper." He said disinterested, once again looking at his own parchment and continuing with his perfect scribbling.

She glanced down at the indicated page, and indeed there was all of the information she needed to write a paper deserving an Outstanding on the subject. It took her a couple of breaths not to snap at him. Ever since arriving at the library he seemed to be telling her where to sit and what to write. But then again, how had he known the information would be there?

But she did not ask him. She simply went over the page that apparently she had not been able to find before and continued writing in silence. She could feel his eyes on her work every once in a while, as if proof reading everything that she was writing and she tried her best to ignore it.

"You've used the word 'beneficial' three times in that single sentence, don't you think it's time to change it?" That was it, she was going to loose it and snap at him.

"Let me write the paper my way." She answered between clenched teeth, noticing him raise both of his hands defensively I the air before continuing with his silent scribbling. Outside, the sky had already turned pitch black, thousands of stars now glimmering over the cloudless mantle, the pale crescent moon reflected neatly over the lake's mirror black surface.

"There should be a coma there." He broke the silence, pointing to the sentence she had just written, and even though he was right about it she had already lost her patience with him. He was so obnoxious.

"Would you stop correcting me?" She snapped at him, setting her quill harshly over the table, not caring about the ink splotch that she had just created. And yet, to her utter surprise hi ever-serious face morphed into a slight smirk, letting out the quietest of chuckles.

"You get angry too easily." There was an unmistakable mocking tone in his ever-cold voice that made her doubt if he had just been provoking her on purpose. Was he having fun at her expense?

"I would not get angry if you would stop judging my writing." She said in return, nearly ready to pack her stuff and leave him there, no longer in the mood to be helping. But instead watched him raise his eyebrows once more before turning to look out of the window, that mocking, haughty smirk never leaving his marble face.

"_You_ are the one who hasn't stopped judging me." His words surprised her and she felt somewhat offended by them. Was she not here willingly letting him copy all of her notes in order to help him? And on top of everything he accused of judging him when he had been correcting everything she did since his arrival?

"Excuse me?" Was all she was able to say, sure that she was finally going to loose it. But contrary to her, Lasgalen remained as tranquil and regal as before, not looking altered or provoked in the slightest.

"Oh, please." He nearly whispered, cold eyes departing form the window to look straight through hers once more, his tone still calmed, disinterested, as if he was merely talking about the weather. "I've heard it all before. Let's see what are you so wary and distrustful about. Is it because I will share your notes with every single Slytheirn in the class, like I've heard said every Slytherin does? Or is it because I'm so arrogant that I manage to get students to lend me their notes at my will while I believe I'm above attending regular classes like the rest of the students? Or maybe is it because why bothering to let me copy notes that you worked so hard on when I've also heard that my father pays Dumbledore every semester to pass me. Or is it that Snape gives me an Outstanding in his class no matter what? I don't which would be this time."

"It's…none of that." She lied, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than before, his words dancing in her head like some sort of revelation, wishing that perhaps she had stopped to decide for herself whether to give him the cold shoulder or not based on her own judgment instead of biasing on what she had so often heard. But then again, if he knew all of that stuff, why did he not contradict them?

"Sure." He shrugged, obviously not believing her, a cold disturbing silence suddenly floating in the air as she toyed awkwardly with her quill, Lasgalen not moving a muscle, once again looking outside the window.

"If you know people say all of those thing why don't you say something about it?" She ventured, her voice having lost part of its hostility and sounding gentler now, tentative. That seemed to get his attention, for his disinterested eyes turned once again in her direction, looking as if her suggestion had amused him.

"Like what?"

"I don't know." She continued, trying to think of something. "Like why are you taking a fourth-year class when you are in your sixth-year? Or why do you skip class so much?"

"Stop meddling in what's not your business." He said in a cutting tone, and this time it was her raising both of her hands defensively. Why was he so difficult to talk to?

"It was only a suggestion." She muttered.

"Well don't suggest that again." He replied, his voice dripping ice as that painful silence settled once more over the room. And yet she tried to think of something else to say, suddenly thinking that perhaps there was more to him than what could be heard at the hallways and classroom. He was still a mystery to her, and a mystery that seemed intent in retaining that ice cold wall around himself.

"How's your cat?" She asked before she could stop and think before, silently cursing herself in the process? Really? Had she just asked that? Oh, she could see how stupid her question must have sounded in the way in which his eyes were now studding her as if assessing her sanity. That was a strange question to ask out of nowhere.

"Now you are the one judging me." She rushed to add, watching as he let out another amused chuckle.

"I'm trying very hard not to." He commented, studying for a while longer before answering in a slow voice, as if still questioning where that question had come from. "He's fine, down in the Slytherin dungeon."

"Isn't it depressing and gloomy down there?" She heard herself say once more before stopping to think, this time met once again by a pair a raised eyebrows and penetrating blue eyes.

"Isn't it always hectic and nerve-wracking in the ever-busy Gryffindor tower?" And there it was, answering a question with a question. Oh, how that frustrated her. And still, that question made her laugh lightly, finding it entertaining how an outside would perceive the warm and welcoming tower.

"No." She was quick to answer. "Its warm and there's ton's of light and an amazing view of the yard."

"Well, I have a view underneath the lake." He added, his face as serious as usual, yet his voice sounded somehow less cold, only if slightly, although still maintaining that regal and powerful demeanor.

"Doesn't that scare you?" She continued questioning, not finding the image of swirling water at her window pleasing at all. "To think that you have tons of water just floating over your roof while you sleep."

"No." He seemed to have found her comment equally interesting for that mocking smirk was once again present in his pale face. "That's exactly what I like about it. It makes me feel safe."

"Safe from what?" She blurted out, but he merely shrugged silently in return, not answering her question.

"I finished copying your notes." His icy voice answered instead, changing the direction of the conversation and seeming to be eager to mark an end to it. "Would you mind going over the paper tomorrow? It's already late."

Sigrid nodded her head, carefully closing all of her books while noticing him putting away his parchments, quill and into his own bag.

"_Nox_" She heard him say, followed by the disappearance of the bright light that that previously bathed their table, the room once again in the comforting orange tinge of the candles and fireplace. She threw her bag over her shoulder, waiting patiently for him to do the same, and was surprised when he suddenly hissed quietly as he pulled the heavy bag with his left hand, letting it drop to the floor before switching hands and pulling it up with his right.

"Are you ok?" She asked, feeling the weight of his impenetrable ice blue eyes on her as they started their way towards the tall pair of doors.

"Yeah." He answered quickly, not turning to look at her as he let her through the door first. "I just twisted my wrist at the game." He explained.

She nodded her head, not sure if to believe him or not. Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey be able to treat a sprained wrist in only a minute? But then again, she did not ask more about it, instead watching as he silently turned around and disappeared through the long empty corridor. And then, already dreading and anticipating the meeting with him again tomorrow, she made her way through the long deserted corridors of the castle, hoping that her friends would have saved her form treats from the Halloween feast.

Here's Chapter 6! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Let me know what you think! There will be more Thranduil/Legolas brotherly interaction in the next chapter for sure!


	7. On A Rainy Night

"He's going in!" Elladan's laughing voice made her look up from her book, to once again land at the identical figures sprawled on the grass next to her, the napkins full of fresh toasts seeming to have been forgotten momentarily at their feet.

"He's going to freeze!" Elrohir yelled in return and she let her eyes follow the path of their gleaming silver irises to look at the Hufflepuff boy hovering at the lake's edge as if deciding whether to jump or not. The ruse had been going on for a good half an hour now, and yet the twins continued to yell just as they did when they first noticed the crown of Hufflepuffs cheering and crying out to their peer. She couldn't tell if it was a dare or the students simply trying to prove himself funny or brave, but it was about the fifth time the boy attempted to jump into the smooth black surface only to chicken out at the very last minute.

"And…" Elladan chanted -"he didn't do it…." Elrohir continued where his identical replica had left off -"again." They said in unison, Elladan picking a crumbling toast and biting into it eagerly.

She let out a light chuckle, suppressing her urge to roll her eyes at the twins as she closed her book on her lap, giving up on her reading at the hundredths of conversations and laughter going on around her. It seemed that with November's first Saturday's arrival every single student in the castle was trying to make the most of the few days left to enjoy the vas outdoors, before the cold and bitter winter snows confined them to the castle until spring. Still, as the cold breeze had her huddling her scarf closer to her neck, being confined to the warmth of the castle did not sound so bad at the moment.

The gold and orange leaves carpeted over the once green grass, many of them floating weightlessly over the lakes black surface in an eerily magical dance, shimmering beautifully under the few rays of sunlight that managed to filter through the greying sky. It would rain in the night, she could anticipate it in the humid wind.

"Look, Look! There he goes again!" Elrohir's hand pointed once again as he grinned mischievously once more at the hesitating Hufflepluff boy.

"He's not going to jump." She laughed, for the first time joining in their conversation and only to be ignored by Elladan suddenly shouting loudly "JUST JUMP ALREADY!" making her realize it was a wonder that the twins had not yet stood up and pushed the boy into the lake themselves by that point.

Instead she let the twins yell and laugh at the poor scared boy as her eyes wondered across the vas open space, lingering shortly over the many high towers of the castle before landing on certain spot she had been throwing hidden glanced for the past half an hour.

Thranduil Lasgalen was still there, sitting casually on the grass under the sparse shade of a yellow tree, his long silver hair looking paler under the sunlight, and it was the strange of lack of that iced wall that seemed to always surround him what made it impossible for her to look away. Legolas was sprawled next to him, beside long rows of neatly laid out collectible cards that they had been counting for a while now, surrounding by a lot more yet unopened chocolate frogs. And yet for once the elder Lasgalen did not look cold, that regal air of power and authority that seemed to surround him suddenly gone, as if all the iced walls and barriers that seemed to surround him could suddenly melt away, a thing that she only ever seen happen when in the presence of his younger brother. She had not seen him since they last met at the library to go over the potions paper, and he had barely spoken to her at all, a frozen silence settling between the two of them as she watched his slanted calligraphy dancing over parchments.

"I've got four Dumbledores." She could hear Legolas' saying with a soft giggle, always so carefree and warm, almost the opposite of his cold mysterious and reserved brother.

"Do you want mine?" Thranduil said in return, his deep voice carrying a most unusual playful sound, suddenly warm as well, a smirk gleaming in his ice blue eyes as he casually threw a card in Legolas' direction, the latter throwing it back as soon as it landed, the card hitting his brother on the ear, making him laugh in return.

"What am I going to do with another one! I told you I have four already!" The boyish laugher almost made her smile, the younger Lasgalen stretching one of his pale hands to grab at one of the unopened chocolate frogs, the emerald lined sleeves of his Hogwarts robe slightly too long for him.

"What did you get?" Thranduil's eager voice asked as he leaned closer to his brother, as if trying to peek over hi shoulder, and she was again puzzled yet curious at the carefree sound of his usually perfectly controlled voice. It was like looking at a different person. It only made her smile widen as she saw Legolas huddling his hands closer to him, looking at the card while purposely blocking his brother's view.

"Oh, come on! Let me see!" She could her the older Lasgalen complaining impatiently, now very obviously twisting his head in an effort to look at the card, his right hand attempting to grab at Legolas' fingers, which were tightly clasped around the item. "What did you get? Is it Morgana? If it is Morgana then its mine!"

"Thran stop! I haven't looked at it yet!" Legolas laughed as he managed to wriggle his hands away from his brother's ones, which were still trying to grab at the card. Instead she could see Legolas arm flying high in the air, as if believing that raising the card high in the air would put it out of his brother's reach.

"I saw you looking!" the older brother pointed out, slender fingers quickly stealing the card in Legolas' raised hand, the movement so fast that it took the younger brother a couple of seconds to realize it was gone.

"Hey! Give it back!" Legolas said as he snatched the card back into his smaller hands, but it was already too late for his older brother was now opening laughing as he looked at the card, not placing the smallest of resistances. And yet it was again a most puzzling yet enchanting sight for her, his laughter so natural, so open, then why was he so cold and bitter all the time?

"You can keep your Dumbledore. I don't want it." Thranduil said in between chuckles, only making his younger brother laugh loudly then, throwing the fifth Dumbledore into his pile of cards.

"You wanted it when you thought it was Morgana." Legolas pointed out, his hand picking up a new chocolate frog package from the grass, only to be stopped by his brother's hand.

"Eat one of mine now." The older Lasgalend said as he threw one of the chocolate frog packages that were bunched to his left.

"But I get to keep the card." Legolas warned as his fingers starting deftly peeling away at the wrapping, his soft blue eyes gleaming at his brother, as if expecting the exact answer he would get.

"No, the card is mine. You already opened five or yours, so let's open one of mine before you have your last one. There are twelve frogs and we said six and six." Thranduil stressed his words, his lips curving up in a smile at his brother who seemed to be openly ignoring him.

"We said eight for me and four for you." Legolas added, eyes shimmering with mischief as his hand sneaking away two of the frogs from Thranduil's pile. "Besides you don't even like chocolate!"

"We never said that!" She could see Thranduil laughing in return, his hand snatching back the two frogs his brother had stolen. "Six and six, so now hurry up and eat mine so that I can see what I got."

"I already had five." Legolas complained in return under his brother's playfully dangerous glare before he held his hands up defensively. "All right, I'll open it so can get your card, but I'll eat it later."

"Then I'll open it." Thranduil muttered, his quick fingers once again taking the half-open package from his younger brother's hands and gracefully pulling out the card and resealing the package before the enchanted frog could jump out of the box.

"There's your frog." He added as he handed it back to his younger brother who only rolled his eyes before muttering to himself "A cardless boring frog this is." But his brother was too busy suddenly laughing at the card in his hands to listen to him.

"What is it? What did you get?" Legolas' eyes had grown wide as he asked impatiently, now throwing himself over his brother's shoulder to sneak a peek in the same way the older Lasgalen had done before.

"Its yours." Thranduil said with a slight shake of his head, handing his brother the card for the eleven year old to open his mouth in a disappointed smile.

"_Another_ Dumbledore?! What's wrong with these frogs!" He exclaimed as he threw the card back at his brother before lifting his hands in the air, trying to make it very clear that he would not be accepting the card, but unluckily for him his older brother managed to slip the card in his robes' pocket, letting out a chuckle as Legolas smaller hands quickly went in to fish it out.

"Look who's coming." Legolas lowered his voice, making her have to read his lips to catch what he was saying, his blonde head nodding to the side as she caught sight of Thranduil's eyes suddenly looking in that direction, following his brother's mocking eyes.

She turned her eyes too, follow the direction Legolas had indicated and found her stomach twisting once more as she caught sight of Alexis Sonnet's slender and graceful figure walking –no, that was more like waltzing and floating- in the Lasgalen's direction, her gorgeous long dark hair loose around her porcelain heart-shaped face. She looked beautiful – but then again, when did she not? – The dark Hogwarts robe only making her pale skin look smoother, her light green eyes contrasting stunningly with her dark lashes.

"Its time for you to go." Thranduil smiled at his brother, pushing him lightly away.

"No way." The younger brother pouted, eyes narrowing at his brother. "You only want me to leave so that you two can look into each others eyes like dumb trolls." Legolas sang mockingly, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly and then quickly managing to dodge a playful hit form his brother.

"If you go now I'll give you one of my chocolate frogs." The older brother negotiated. "with the card!" He was quick to add just as Legolas opened his mouth to argue.

"Three chocolate frogs with the cards and you won't see me around until dinner." The younger brother crossed his arms and only by the suspicious look in Thranduil's face she could tell that he had lost and he knew it.

"Fine. Take three." Thranduil gave up, the little Lasgalen grinning widely as he quickly grabbed three unopened chocolate frogs before his brother could change his mind and left in a gleeful sprint.

Her stomach twisted all the more as she saw the beautiful Slytherin girl lowering herself next to the older Lasgalen, whispering something to him too low for her to hear it, his arms wrapping almost immediately around her waist as she dropped a kiss on his marble cheek. And once again, his previously warm liquid blue eyes had frozen underneath frozen ice crystal, his expression once again controlled, impenetrable, all the emotions she had seen previously swirling in those endless ocean eyes once again concealed, forgotten.

"He's in!" Elladan's sudden cry made her eyes return to the twins, the loud splash followed by cheering coming from the lake's edge letting her know that the Hufflepuff boy had finally jumped into the lake. Both of the twins were laughing loudly next to her, suddenly looking more identical than ever, perfect replicas of one another.

"That water most be ice cold." Elrohir chuckled as he carelessly brushed a strand of his long dark hair behind his shoulder before his liquid silver eyes turned to look in her direction, his hands gathering the now empty napkin from the grass and letting the few bread crumbs left in tumble into the mantle of golden leaves. "Let's head inside before it rains."

True to his words, the sky above had turned grey underneath a heavy cloak of clouds, the frail golden sunlight that filtered in sparse rays throughout the afternoon now completely dulled out. Some of the students were already heading back inside, pulling the hoods of their robes over their heads in an effort to block the colder humid breeze.

Silently, Sigrid picked up the heavy book from her lap before standing up and brushing the few fallen leaves that had stuck to her black Hogwarts robes and following the twins up the wide steps and into the grand entrance hall. They barely made it inside as a the few gentle drops of cold rain battered into the ground, the students left outside suddenly hurrying up to pick their stuff and run inside as the rain grew heavier and heavier.

And it did not stop. The heavy sound of the rain drumming against the towers and crystals accompanied them all through the rest of the afternoon and into the Great Hall for dinner, the golden sunlight now forgotten, the sky dark and thundering above their heads, drowning the chatter with its lulling sound. Even in the usually vivid and welcoming Gryffindor common room, the rain seemed to water down the warmth atmosphere, the students huddled up in quiet groups by the fire and many of them retiring to be early.

She tried to get ahead with her homework, after Eowyn had already given up on hers and retired to the bedroom, but even as she tried to concentrate her eyes kept darting outside the window and down into the water covered lands. No moonlight lighted the air, the stars hidden underneath he heavy clouds, and the droplets of waters smashed violently against the window crystals before sliding down in blurry wiggly paths.

She did not know how long she sat there, first attempting to do homework, then pretending to do her homework, and finally just watching out the window as the crackling flames in the fireplace grew weaker and weaker, the ample common room now completely empty for long hours. Yet she could not sleep, did not even fell tired as the gloomy sad sky made her feel uneasy, nightly rains waking memories she did not want to remember. It had been raining hard that night too, she could remember it drumming loudly on the roof above her childhood bedroom…

Shaking her head slightly, Sigrid quietly rose from her spot by the window, barely glancing around the empty seats of the room before heading up the curving stone steps and into her bedchamber. Perhaps a peaceful walk through the sleeping castle would help her get tired, would help her mind to thinking of something else. She tiptoed into the dark chamber, trying not to wake any one in the process as she made her way towards her bed, where the deep red curtains were still drawn closed from the night before. Opening her trunk as quietly as she could manage, Sigrid pulled out the long invisibility cloak she had burrowed from the twins a couple of nights before and had not yet returned, wrapping it securely over her as she tried her best to ignore the voice inside her head that kept reminding her that walking at night through the castles hallways was forbidden.

Instead she made her way outside the portrait hole, the fat lady dressed in pink snoring loudly as she slip past her, descending many spiraling steps and submerging herself into the empty silent hallways, the long shadows of the columns flickering hollowly every time she passed one of the lighted torches. She walked past the Great Hall and towards deeper areas of the castle, searching for the places where the drumming of the rain would be less noisy, easier to ignore, her heart stopping every time she heard a sound only to remind herself that nobody could see her, she would not get in trouble.

She walked past the kitchen, the long hallways and ample staircases leading down and down, every time seeing less and less windows. The thousands of paintings of the walls were either snoring deeply or looing bored as their eyes darted form left to right, seeming to have nothing to look at in empty darkness. Only one painting of a short funny looking wizard in what seemed to be a farm was making a lot of noise as he claimed to the other sleeping paintings that his sheep had moved and he could no longer find them. That almost made her laugh, but she had stop herself just in time and remember that she could not be seen but could most certainly be heard, and she did not want any of the paintings to tell on her if they found out there was someone out of bed this late at night.

Instead she continued on her way, turning right into yet another long hallway lined with tall crystal windows before her heart nearly stopped again. She froze as the unmistakable sound of footsteps approached her direction in rushed walk, and she made herself as unmoving as stone and as silent as the tall imposing walls as her eyes caught sight of a dark silhouette appearing at the darker end of the hallway, too far still for her to recognize but coming closer and closer, walking fast. For a second she feared her heart would jump out of her chest with anxiety as she silently debated whether to stay right where she was and not move for fear or making a sound, or simply move to one side of the hallway for the figure to walk right past her without a chance of collision.

But her fear quickly disappeared as she finally caught sight of approaching figure, that silver long hair and pale skin impossible to miss. She remained frozen where she was, a thousand of questions rising inside her head as she watched Thranduil Lasgalen approach, pace rushed, almost running, and she could see his hands shaking violently at his sides, his fast equally shaky breathing loud enough for her to hear, seeming to be coming in a desperate gasps of air, but he did not seem to care if any one noticed him out of bed, in fact he did not even fully aware of where he was, he seemed shocked? Scared? She did not move, watching as he hurried towards one of the long tall windows, yet unaware of her presence as his shaking fingers fumbled with the window latch, seeming to be trebling too much to be able to open it, and it seemed to despair him further, frustrate him as she could hear his breathing coming faster and heavier, his ice blue eyes wide, glazed, terrified. He was frightened, frightened beyond she had seen anyone be before, but of what?

So here is chapter 7! I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed my previous chapter, your words mean a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you specially!


	8. Curiosity

She stood there petrified in the long hallway, watching, not wanting the slightest of movements to give away her presence. But it seemed that Lasgalen would not notice her, no matter if she moved. He stood in front of her window, his long fingers fumbling desperately with the window latch, shaking too much for him to even get a solid grip on the metal piece. She had never seen anyone look so frightened, so terrified. But of what? He was visibly trembling, his breathing coming out in panicked gasps of air as his hands continued their futile fight with the unyielding latch, his right hand resourcing to hitting the crystal as if trying to push it open by force. And she didn't know whether it was her sudden fear that someone would hear the noise and get them in trouble for being out of bed this late at night, or the sheer fear that she saw consuming his ice colored eyes what finally made her move.

"Here." She heard her voice before she realized she had spoken, the thick invisibility cloak sliding from over her head and landing deafly on the cold stone floor. His head snapped in her direction, eyes widening in surprise at her sudden appearance, a look that quickly replaced as she let her own steady fingers quickly open the window latch in a single deft move. Not even a second after, his pale hands were pushing the crystals wide open, making her jump back immediately as the purring rain suddenly splashed into the hallway, quickly making a puddle at their feet. But Thranduil did not seem to care, instead leaning heavily over the wooden windowsill, his eyes suddenly closed as he took desperate, shaky gulps of air, the heavy raindrops sliding down his chiseled cheeks and dancing down his loose strand of silver hair. What could have possibly render anyone this scared? This shaken?

Sigrid swallowed dryly, her mind spinning with thousands of unvoiced questions as she silently made her way to the twins' invisibility cloak laid forgotten on the floor, letting herself sit down next to it, her back against the hallways cold wall. She didn't know how long she sat there, but for some reason she did not want to leave, watching as the puddle in the floor grew larger and larger, Lasgalen's long hair now dripping wet directly across from her. At last he seemed to be regaining his breath, as if the freezing smashing raindrops were slowly calming him down. But why had he been so desperate to let the rain in? So desperate to open that window? She herself had been trying to escape from those drops of icy water that were now slowly creeping their way over the stone floor to her feet, making her put her knees against her chest as she waited.

It seemed an eternity before Lasgalen moved. Slowly, very slowly her turned around, sliding down to sit on the floor across the hallway from her and underneath the still open window, the rain continuing to pour over him even as he sat there taking slow deep breaths. His eyes swept over hers, once again cold, impenetrable glaciers, hard and unwelcoming yet stunning, piercing through hers like darts for a split of a second before looking down to his shaking hands, not turning to look back at her again. She felt as if she was in the Hospital Wing all over again, watching something she was not supposed to, and having his burning eyes grill her for it. She let out a silent breath, her hands slowly folding the thick elegant cloack before starting to rise from the floor.

"Don't go." His words stopped her in her tracks, eyes not even turning back up as he spoke, his voice steady yet threaded with the unmistakable fear she had seen in his eyes moments ago. And she didn't know why, but that was enough for her to not argue, slowly sitting back down against the wall as she laid the cloak neatly folded over her lap. He did not seem to particularly want her company, but it seemed clear that he would rather not be left alone.

Silence dance hollowly between the two of them to the chorus of a thousand raindrops, the wind every now and then smacking the crystals of the window against each other in a tinkling melody.

"What were you doing out in the hallways?" He broke the silence, ice blue eyes turning once more to look at hers and even though she wanted nothing more than ask him the same question, she guessed that was not the direction in which he intended this conversation to go. She could see that his hands where still trembling, although less noticeably now, but it was that had scared him still had him shaken.

"Could not sleep." She shrugged, but hat seemed to be enough of a response for him for he just nodded his head in reply.

"Is the cloak yours?" He asked, pointing at the folded garment on her lap with his eyes.

"It's the twin's, I borrowed it some time ago but haven't returned it yet." She was slightly confused by the sudden interest in small talk, but if sitting in the hallway talking about nothing was somehow helping him, she would play along.

"The twins? The Peredhel twins?"

"Yes" She added, once again remembering that they were in completely different houses and not necessarily knew or were friends with the same people. "They are in our potions class, I'm sure you've-

"Yes, I know them." He cut her short, but not harshly. "Them owning an invisibility cloak explains a lot."

She let out a small chuckle at that, it seemed that no matter the house, Elladan and Elrohir's mischief was well known all over the school. "Yes it certainly does."

"Would you not rather move to somewhere dry?" She asked, unable to contain herself as she noticed that he was not completely drenched, the rain still pouring freely inside the castle.

"No." He said shortly, and it was the look inside his deep ice blue eyes that made her decide against arguing further.

"Ok" She nodded as silence settled again. Even if she would rather not to, she could handle getting a little wet, but it seemed that at this moment he would not handle moving from where he sat. What had frightened him so?

"Are you alright?" She finally asked, letting her eyes study him carefully. For a moment he only stared at her in return, suddenly wary, as if trying to predict if she would ask more detailed questions if he answered.

"Yes" He did not elaborate, his voice sounding convincing but she did not believe him. This was all too familiar to her, this small talk that he seemed perfectly comfortable with carrying and the sudden coldness and wariness that would build around him like an impenetrable wall when asked a question of a more personal nature. But this time she did not push it. Instead she shifted the conversation to a light topic once more, which seemed to be at least helping him slowly calm down.

"When's your next Quidditch match?" Really? Was that the best she could think of? But then again it seemed that pointless questions like this was the kind of conversation he was looking for.

"Not sure." He furrowed his brow as fi trying to recall a specific date. "Two weeks? Three weeks?"

"Are you not supposed to know that for sure?" She laughed lightly at the absurdity of it. He was the team's captain was he not?

"I should know, actually." He looked slightly confused now, and slightly embarrassed about it, an expression that she had to admit looked adorable in his usually cold and distant face, only making her laugh once more before gaining a glare in return.

"Don't let your teammates know that their captain doesn't know when they are playing next." She could not hold herself back from continuing to mock him and surprisingly, against any reaction she had expected, he laughed. It was a sound she had not expected to hear from such an ice-cold person. He did not seem so cold now, even if he still felt distant.

"Do _you_ know when the next game is?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her, but she just shook her head in reply.

"Not a clue. I don't particularly like Quidditch." She shrugged. Oh Eowyn would have a heart attack if she could hear her right now.

"Now you are offending me, Bowman" He added, a half smirk curving up in his marble face. "Why would you not like Quidditch?"

"I don't like flying." She was quick to answer, his eyes suddenly looking at her as if she had confessed to having broken into Gringotts and stolen all the gold from every single vault, making her feel the urge to defend her statement. "I like my feet on the ground, where the fall cannot kill me."

"You are being serious?" He was judging her now, oh she could tell.

"Incredibly serious. I don't like flying, I don't like the idea of flying. I've never even tried it." Only thinking of looking at the objects all tiny many _many_ meters below her feet made chills travel down her spine.

"You've _never_ tried it? Never? Not once?" He was looking at her intently now, as if he could simply not fathom how what she was saying could be true. Well, even if he was completely judging her the conversation seemed to have at least distracted him enough to forget about whatever had him so deadly scared before.

"No. Not once. And I have no interest in trying it." She clarified. Watching as he continued to look at her as if she was the strangest thing he had seen in his life.

"You are ridiculous." He concluded, shaking his head lightly and making a few raindrops splattered from his dripping silver hair.

She shrugged once more before speaking. "I am not the one sitting under the freezing rain getting drenched unnecessarily."

He chuckled lightly, to her surprise standing up and gently closing the window shut once more before sitting down again, the hallway suddenly quieter now that the rain could no longer drum on the already flooded hallway.

"You are still ridiculous." He added, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the windowsill.

"Well some people like flying and other don't." She continued. "I know Tilda likes flying, but she's not very good at it."

"Tilda? You sister?" He opened one of his eyes to look at her, watching her nod in confirmation. "She's the sane one, then."

She silently cursed that he had his eyes closed once more for he could not see the death glare she was throwing right at the moment. Instead she remained silent once more, not really feeling like trying to make more small talk, watching as he just sat there, her fingers tracing endless patterns on the folded cloak at her lap.

And it was then when she heard it. Footsteps approaching down the hallway. Her heart flipped inside her chest as she started to quickly get up, but it was too late for at that second none other than Professor McGonagall rounded the corner, eyes widening slightly as she caught sight of them. Oh, she was dead. There was no way McGonagall would let them go without detention. A quick glance to her side let her know that Lasgalen too had heard the approaching footsteps for he was also once again on his feet, suddenly looking completely composed.

"Merlin!" McGonagall exclaimed as she hurried towards them, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes scrutinizing them head to toe in a manner that made Sigrid suddenly feel like a guilty toddler being reprimanded by a parent.

"What do you both think you are doing? Out of bed at this hour!" McGonagall spoke, even though her narrowed, disappointed eyes kept looking at her only, as if Thranduil did not merit the reprimand.

"Lasgalen, you come here before you freeze." The professor snapped, one hand impatiently motioning for the soaking wet Slythering to approach, face stern, leaving no space for argument. She watched as Thranduil obeyed almost immediately, McGonagall giving a quick flick of her wand that immediately left the student completely dry, even if the latter did not seem too happy about it.

"Both of you, follow me." McGonagall added, not waiting before turning around and marching down the hallway, both students following at her heels. Sigrid's heart felt as if it wanted to jump out of her chest as they silently walked down the long deserted hallways and up many stairs. Just what she had been trying to avoid. Getting caught. And now here she was, following McGonagall most probably to her office and most certainly on her way to receiving a tedious and long detention.

They walked for what felt like ages, the castle never before having felt as large and empty as it did at that moment. Finally they stopped in front of a very familiar winged statue, her heart once again giving another flip and her face paling as she realized where they were being taken.

"Pumpkin Cauldrons." McGonagall voiced echoed on the stone, the statue suddenly moving away as a staircase started to spiral up and up until she lost sight of the first few risers.

"Professor Dumbledore will see to you. And after that I would recommend going directly to breakfast, as if appears you have stayed the entire night chatting out in the hallway." McGonagall's voice dripped with ice, thin eyebrows high on her forehead as she gave them another reproachful look, motioning with her hand for them to climb the stairs.

And they did not wait to be told twice, both of them immediately climbing up the spiraling steps, up and up and up, until they reached the familiar rounded small vestibule where her eyes could do nothing that stare at the large majestic wooden door ahead. Lasgalen was the one to knock, for it seemed that the Gryffindor, ironically, had lost all of her courage.

"Enter" The voice echoed from the other side of the large door, Thranduil pushing it open slowly, both of them tentatively walking into the ample round room that comprised Dumbledore's office.

In her four years at Hogwarts, Sigrid had been only once, and the room greeted her again as if she had never seen it before, fascinating, crowded with wall high overflowing bookcases and lighted with hundreds of flying candles. Professor Dumbledore sat at his large wooden desk, the surface covered with open books and folded parchments, an exquisite quill held elegantly in his long fingers, still scribbling something on a slightly curling page.

"Ah, Bowman, Lasgalen." The professor greeted them, his voice always gentle and welcoming, even as his blue eyes pierced them deeply behind his half-moon spectacles, and for a second she had the familiar feeling that he already knew exactly why they were there. Carefully, the headmaster put his quill aside, motioning with his hand for them to take the seats in front of him before folding both hands over the many parchments on the desk. And for a moment he just stared at them, looking closely from one to the other, eyes seeming to penetrate them completely, as if able to access the deepest parts of their minds.

"Apart from you both being out of bed at night, is there something else I should know?" He asked patiently, as if merely talking about the weather, and even though he directed the question to both of them his blue eyes stared only at Thranduil, looking at him deeply and for a second she wonder if there was something being silently said between his words.

"No, sir." Lasgalen's face remained as composed and expressionless as ever, but it seemed that the headmaster accepted that as an answer with a small nod of his head.

"Therefore I trust that I do not need to contact you father, Lasgalen?" Dumbledore added as patiently as before, yet his eyes continued to study the Slytherin deeply. Now there was definitely something being said in between words. She turned to look at Thranduil, trying in vain to read something in his face, but his expression remained as composed and blank as ever, a perfectly carved marble statue. Only Dumbledore seemed to be able to see through his mask.

"No, sir." Came the same answer, the headmaster once again nodding his head slowly in return.

"I trust that you would let know if something was….amiss?" Dumbledore's eyes bore through Lasgalen intensely now, and she was sure that had it been her she would have cracked under that stare. But what were they talking about?

"Yes, sir." Thranduil replied, face as still as before, not even moving an inch.

"Good." The headmaster smiled, the eyes once again soft as he leaned back on his chair. "I believe you both know that you have gained detention for being in the hallways at such late hour. You will report to Professor McGonagall on Friday after classes are over."

"Yer, sir." They replied in unison this time, Sigrid playing nervously with her hands on her lap. Great. Perfect. Wonderful.

"Very well, that being said, Bowman wait for me here while I escort Lasgalen back to the Slythering House." She nodded her head immediately, not trusting her voice to speak again as she silently watched both the headmaster and Thranduil rising to their feet and starting to walk out of the room. And yet, it was Lasgalen's pursed lips and hard eyes what let her know that the headmaster was not merely 'escorting' the student back to the Slytherin dungeon. Whatever it was it was clear that it was not for her to know. But that only made her all the more curious as she heard the door silently shutting close, leaving her alone in the midst of this splendid circular room. And why would Dubledore need to contact Thranduil's father? He did not mention anything about contacting her father, so it could not have been to tell him about them meriting detention. It had to be something else, but what?

She felt restless, anxious, her mind going around in circles of questions for which she could find no answer, and before she knew it she found herself pacing the room impatiently, her hands inside the pockets of her school robes. She let her eyes wonder through the many books on the shelves, studying their titles, their shapes, their colors. She went shelf by shelf, trying to find the biggest book of the shelf and then the smallest, the one that looked the oldest and then the one that looked the newest. And it was then that she came across a book that had a very particular title at the very beginning of the next wall-long bookshelf. Except that it was not a book tile. It was a name. And it was not a book. It was a leather binder. She scanned around the other books in that area, and from floor to ceiling the wall was filled with the identical looking files, all with different names on them. These were not books. These were student files.

Her eyes threw a glance at the large wooden doors, confirming that it was still closed and that she was still alone before quickly looking for her name, finding it easily in between Tilda's and Bain's, not thinking it twice before pulling it out. And it was indeed student files what she had found. She let her eyes roam through the parchments neatly held inside, and everything was there. From all her information, birth date, birth place, parents, to her medical records, all the few injuries she had sustained inside and outside Hogwarts, to her grades in every class she had ever taken, and even every single detention she had ever received. Everything was there. And then, before she could stop herself, another thought crossed her mind, her hands quickly closing her file and placing it back on the shelf before scanning once again through the thousands of names, easily finding the file she was looking for.

_Thranduil Lasgalen _read in the same curly golden letters on the cover as she held the file in between her hands, fighting internally with herself. She wanted nothing more than to open it, nothing more than to finally find out why he was taking a fourth-year potions class when he should be taking the sixth-year class, or if it was indeed true that he was top of his class. But then again, there was the voice in her head that told her that she should not open the file, that whatever information it contained was not for her to see. She had no business in looking at it. But why was curiosity so hard to resist?

And she glanced once more at the door, the decision already made inside her head as her eyes suddenly fell upon the many parchments inside, dancing from left to right. _Thranduil Oropher Lasgalen…..birth London, February 19, 1992…_ Everything was there as well….he had an Outstanding in nearly every single class, although there were a few marked as '_incomplete', _a couple of detentions here and there but not too many…but it was not that what made her blood run cold in shock at what she found, suddenly wishing she had not opened the file at all. Lasgalen's medical records had to be the thickest file she had ever seen, the parchment on the very top reading _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, admitted October 23 2007, discharged October 28, ,2007, 'treatment'…. _That had been only a few weeks ago, the week he missed after she had seen him in the Hospital Wing that night. And she continued to look, her eyes now darting from page after page…._St. Mungo's, September 4, 2007 to September, 7…'treatment'….July 1 to July 15, 2007, 'treatment'….March 19 to March 25…'treatment'…St. Mungo's Hospital….'treatment'…..January 14 to January 17, 2007…'treatment'…._

The words ran before her eyes, her hands shaking at what she was reading….there were two weeks on past December in St. Mungo's as well, and the whole month of August, then at least 18 times admitted the year before that, and a few more times the year before, and even more the previous one, then a few less the previous year….._'treatment'….'treatment'….St. Mungo's Hospital….April 9 to April 14, 2002….._There was not a single year that did not have at least 10 visits to St. Mungo's, and those visits seemed to grow more and more frequent as she went through the years, all of them labeled 'treatment', even though her own files were labeled with detail descriptions of every injury, here it didn't give a single detail….There at least 50 visits in 1999, a few more in 1998, and the very last file _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maldies and Inuries, admitted June 6, 1996, discharged December 22, 1997, 'treatment'_…..behind that there was nothing, only the St. Mungo's certificate of birth. Her eyes stared at the dates again…. June 6, 1996 – December 22, 1997….nearly a year and a half. Whatever was the reason for the multiple hospital visits, it had not been there before June 6, 1996….doing the math Thranduil had been only four, there were no visits before that, then what had happened? What _was_ happening?

Finally here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy reading it, even though it ends in a slight cliffie. Stay tuned for the coming chapters!


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